The Bodyguard

by Bridget Essex

Synopsis:

Guarding her heart was never part of the contract...

Annie Bellfield is walking her dog early one morning when, from out of nowhere, a gorgeous stranger approaches her and starts to walk with her. The captivating woman's name is Nova, and Annie finds her intensely attractive...

Until Nova pushes her into a black van with no windows.

Nova swears it isn't a kidnapping—that she's in charge of keeping Annie safe from someone or something she can't tell Annie about. Nova is frustrating, obtuse and cocky, but as Annie and Nova go on the run from this untold danger, Annie finds herself falling head over heels for her bodyguard.

Mysteries, family secrets, werewolves and passionate romance combine...what could possibly go wrong?

"The Bodyguard"

© Bridget Essex 2018

Rose and Star Press

First Edition

All rights reserved

Please don’t pirate this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons or werewolves, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Dedication:

For the love of my life, always.

Contents:

Chapter 1: Kidnapped!

Chapter 2: Cake!

Chapter 3: Teeth!

Chapter 4: Escape!

Chapter 5: Trouble!

Chapter 6: Run!

Chapter 7: Sanctuary!

Chapter 8: Ex!

Chapter 9: Complicated!

Chapter 10: Advice!

Chapter 11: Truth!

Chapter 12: Church!

Chapter 13: Yes!

Chapter 14: Secrets!

Chapter 15: Us!

Chapter 16: Bodyguard!

Chapter 17: Voices!

Chapter 18: Brave!

Chapter 1: Kidnapped!

I was kidnapped on a Wednesday.

I was up super early, like before six AM, if you can believe it. The sun hadn't even bothered to rise yet, lazy guy that he is, and I was already pounding the paved parking lot at Bellfield Park, all but dragging my lazy dog behind me.

For her part, Sunflower wasn't fully awake yet. My dog and I take an early morning walk every single day, and every single day, Sunny isn't totally up until about halfway through our little morning adventure.

I'd chalk this up to Sunny being a Shetland Sheepdog—you probably know what those little guys look like, but just in case you don't, imagine a smaller, chubbier, and more adorable Collie, and you've probably got Sunny's face in your head.

Well, Sunny is chubbier and lazier than most Shelties, which...that's really saying something. The vet told me that I've got to get her out of the house on a long walk every single day because she needs the exercise so badly, and I take what my vet says seriously...

So there we were, walking down one of the paths in Bellfield, getting our morning exercise in. I had my headphones on and was jamming out to some Joplin, and by “jamming out,” I mean, walking sedately and literally dragging my lazy dog behind me.

Sunny was in the midst of theatrics, wherein she starred as the damsel pup in distress, and I was the horrid, mustachioed villain trying to tie her to some railroad tracks or something. I am not, in fact, mustachioed, and I'd like to think I'm not the villain here.

But no amount of cajoling, begging or pleading was currently working on my dog. Does it make me the villain if I was trying to take her for a nice walk? Plenty of dogs would kill to go on a nice walk! Oh, trust me, I've also tried that classic tactic on her, too, “there's plenty of starving kids in the world who would love to eat those peas,” but it didn't work on me as a kid, and it sure as hell wasn't working on my dog right about then.

“Sunny,” I tried, crouching on the ground in front of her. We'd made it about halfway along the Autumn Loop trail, which is this super pretty path that cuts straight through the wooded area in the park. Forest surrounded us, and there was such a soft hush in the air. The sky was a brilliant magenta mixed with orange—it looked like a bucket of sherbet that was good enough to eat. The sun was about to rise over the edge of the world, the birds were all singing their hearts out...it was glorious.

But my dog sat in the middle of the path and glared at me as sullenly as if she was currently in the middle of a pit of hell.

We stared at each other.

The thing about Shelties? They're stubborn.

The thing about me?

I'm just as stubborn.

You could say that Sunny and I were meant for each other.

“We can sit here, if you like,” I told my dog, raising my brows. “Or...would you like something in exchange for finishing this walk?”

I'd said a word that Sunny absolutely understands, which is “like.” I ask her if she'd like to go get an ice cream cone, if she'd like to go pick out a treat at the pet store, if she'd like to have some extra dinner.

I ask her if she'd like things she likes.

So Sunny cocked her head to the side, and batted her long, brown lashes at me as if to say: “okay, human...I'm listening.”

“Well...” I drawled, and I grinned down at my tiny, fluffy dog. “If you finish this walk, I'll take you for...” I shifted my gaze left and right, and lowered my voice conspiratorially, as if someone might overhear us: “a treat.”

I swear to God, if I was two miles up in the atmosphere, being shot toward the moon by rocket, my dog would've still managed to hear me. She has supernatural hearing when it comes to the mere mention of that most magical word, “treat.”

And here, now, when I said it...that was the only thing capable of waking Sunny up.

Instantly—and I do mean instantly—my dog was up on all four paws again, her tail wagging so quickly that it was a flashy, golden-white blur behind her butt. I grinned, ruffling her scruff, and then I was standing too, stretching overhead as Sunny turned and actually tugged on her leash.

Well, that's akin to Olympics-level activity for my dog, so I laughed and followed after her as she began to trundle—by herself, without encouragement—down the path. It wasn't a fast trundle, but it'd get us to the parking lot eventually, and it would get us there a heck of a lot faster than dragging my unhappy, stubborn, half-asleep pup.

I'm going to tell you a secret that probably makes me a bad person. Please don't judge me too harshly.

Okay, here it is...

Sunny knows that the word “treat” almost always ends in a treat.

But...not always.

I use this trick on her several times a week, when she's her grouchiest and most stubborn.

But only about once a week do we get the “treat” I mention. This is on doctor's—vet's—orders. Not too many treats for my sweet, overweight fur-baby.

But maybe Sunny's right...maybe that does make me a little bit of a villain...

I was overthinking the morals of lying to my dog when we rounded a bend in the path... I was deep in thought, not paying attention much to my surroundings or anything else. It was such a normal day, I was in the middle of doing a normal thing, so normal, all of this...

But then, something out of the ordinary happened.

Something...wonderful.

There she was, all of a sudden, someone extraordinary.

A woman.

But not like “a” woman. I wrinkled my nose and stared at her, brows furrowed, my mouth probably open in a little bit of shock.

I mean, you get all types in a park, right? You've got your early morning joggers, your lovely elderly folks strolling arm in arm. And...that's honestly about it this early in the AM.

This wasn't the hour for someone like...her.

She was striding down the exact center of the path...I mean, I say “striding,” but the word that comes to mind when I think of how she moved...

Well.

She prowled.

She prowled like a predator.

The first thing I noticed about her was how she moved, because it was impossible not to notice, because the woods...well, there wasn't a bit of wind in the trees. Nothing stirred, everything was still...

Come to think of it, everything was too still. Because it had only been a moment or so before I saw her that the birds had been singing their hearts out, their voices at full throttle, their songs loud and boisterous and jubilant, because it was a gorgeous September morning, and dammit, there were some worms to be eaten (I assume...). But now, those formerly jubilant, joyful feathered friends were silent.

That...was strange.

The woman prowled toward me, and my eyes followed the easy slope of her shoulders, like she was relaxed, effortless about her movement. Her legs were long and lanky, and she was sculpted and toned beneath her leather jacket. She was wearing a black tank top, black slacks that maybe I'd consider leggings they were so tight, shiny patent leather shoes completing the look. Her long, brunette hair flowed in sumptuous waves over her shoulders—her hair was so shiny, in fact, that it almost seemed shot through with golden threads.

The curve of her breasts beneath her jacket, the slope of her toned abs, her lightly muscled arms, her runner's legs... everything about her would be a sensation of pleasure beneath my fingertips, and I was gripped by that realization almost instantly.

She was someone I ached to touch.

That wasn't the most shocking thing in the world. There are a lot of ladies who push my buttons, no joke. But...hm, how do I describe this feeling?

Okay:

So, this lady pushed all of my buttons, turned me up to one hundred, made my jaw drop, made my heart skip a beat, and did about every other metaphor you can think of that defines “aw, hell, yes.”

She exuded this raw sensuality that was positively potent.

In less fine terms:

She was hot as hell.

I stared at her, and I mean, I knew I was staring at her, and I was kind of disappointed in myself for it, but at the same time, she drew me in, and I was powerless against it. A trillion fantasies starting firing in my brain and nether regions and we were getting close to passing each other on the path, and this kind of thing has never happened to me before, but apart from all of those other fantasies, the strongest one that stood out in my head was this:

What if she just stopped what she was doing, striding purposefully down the trail, and what if she stopped for me? What if she stopped and she gave me a devastating smile—I hadn't seen her smile, only assumed it was incredibly devastating—and she offered her hand to me, asked if I was walking her way?

Okay, so that's a cheese sandwich, covered in cheese, I know, I got it. But that was my honest to goodness thought, so, eh... It is what it is.

I wanted her to stop and I wanted her to notice me.

And I wanted this badly.

I was suddenly self conscious as we passed each other. I reached up, tucked a strand of blonde hair behind my ear—I had most of it up in a high ponytail that bounced with each stride (my hair is pretty curly, but it was also humid out, so my ponytail currently resembled an alpaca's fur just a tiny bit). I was wearing a dress, yes, and it was pink and pretty, or—at least—it'd been pretty once, but it was currently covered in Sunny's fur, and there was a stain on the skirt from a coffee I'd tragically spilled on it.

Also, there was a gigantic white cartoon rabbit on the front of the bodice. I'd loved that detail at the time I got it, and I wore it in a cool, ironic sort of way, or—at least—that's what I hope you'll believe.

I only wore the dress when everything else in my laundry was dirty and I had nothing else at my disposal, but I was suddenly highly aware that it was kind of unsightly...and totally not the thing you'd wish you were wearing when walking near a woman you found so damn attractive.

I wanted her to notice me.

I wanted her to turn from her projected path, take me in, drink me in, just like I was drinking her in.

I wanted it so badly in that moment that...

Well.

Maybe I actually made it happen.

I don't know. I don't think I believe in stuff like that, the power of what you think creating your own reality, etcetera, etcetera. I don't know. I just...I don't know.

But maybe there's something to it?

Because I hadn't wanted something so badly in such a very long time...

And, then, just like that...

It happened.

The woman paused in her long, easy stride. She paused, and she stood still, a few feet in front of me.

And her gaze turned from the path ahead.

Her eyes, her face turned, and then she was looking directly at me.

I was so startled by this development that I paused, too. Sunny—even with the mention of the treat—wasn't above taking a small rest, and she stopped on a dime, sitting back on her hindquarters with a sort of smug Sheltie grin on her face as she stared up at me. But I only noticed this peripherally, because—for the most part—I was staring at the woman in front of me.

Like, actually staring.

In hindsight, it was slightly embarrassing.

This close—she was only a few feet from me, close enough that if I took a single step forward, I'd be able to reach up and touch her—I was able to take in her eyes. She wore thick, chunky black glasses that I'd categorize as almost masculine. And behind the frames, her eyes flashed with an unapologetic fire.

I had never seen someone with such blue eyes.

They were so blue they reminded me of ice. Not like, storebought ice or the ice they give you in a drink on a hot summer's day. No. This was the kind of ice you'd travel the world to see, the kind of ice that was so rare and hard and sharp that it could only exist at the ends of the earth.

Her eyes were rare and hard and sharp, just like that.

And I melted beneath her gaze pretty much instantly.

She'd stopped walking, and it was so early in the morning that, save for the few elderly ladies at the beginning of the path, I'd seen no one else out here. She wasn't stopping to tie the laces of her shiny leather shoes. She wasn't stopping to take in the scenery of this specific bend in the path.

No.

She was stopping for me.

She was staring straight at me.

I...didn't know what to do. So I cleared my throat, lifted my chin, felt all of my skin rise into goosebumps beneath her gaze.

And I said: “hello!”

I didn't actually say it—I chirped it. I chirped it with the kind of enthusiasm reserved for flight attendants and perfume sales folks. I mean, I'm a pretty excitable, happy person—I've got a lot of enthusiasm in me.

But I hadn't had coffee yet. It was way too early for that much excitement.

I inwardly cringed at myself, and I waited for the stranger to cringe, too, make some joke about it being too early, and I needed to tone it the hell down.

But she didn't say anything of the sort.

Instead...

She smiled.

She smiled at me.

Her eyes narrowed, her full lips parted, a twinkle began in her bright blue irises, and everything about her just became brighter, more focused, somehow.

More stunning, as if that was possible.

“Hello,” she replied, and she growled out the word, putting her head to the side as if she was a pup considering a tasty new bone. Her voice was low, husky, breathy and grounded, all at once, and it was the kind of voice a jazz singer from the twenties would have, a resonant musicality rising and falling in every word like they were individual notes in a love song.

Her voice made me breathless. Which kind of sucks, because humans do need to breathe, and then I was coughing a little like a complete idiot, trying to hide my blush behind my fingers as I glanced down at my dog who was looking up at me quizzically, like: “mom, what is wrong with you?”

I was smitten, that's what was wrong with me.

I tried to stop acting like a schoolgirl, and failed spectacularly.

“Do you come here often?” I said, and what the hell? When have I ever said that, even in a joke? And I'm at this park all the time, and I've never seen her before. I knew she didn't come here often.

Urgh.

I began to wish there was a burial plot salesman nearby, with graves just waiting to be filled.

Thankfully, there was not, because when this woman heard my words, she tilted her head back, and she laughed, not in a mean, “what the hell” kind of way, but in a genuinely amused tone.

It made me melt all over again, just as I'd put myself back together.

“No, actually—I've never been to this park before,” she said, and then she pinned me to the spot with sparkling, dazzling eyes, offering her hand to me. “I came here for someone special.”

I was in a dream. I must be. I was in a dream that was about to turn super sexy, super fast, and when I woke up from said dream, I'd have to have a date with Mz. Fancy (doesn't everyone name their vibrators? Okay, maybe that's just me) to get said sexiness out of my system.

But I'd always remember this dream. Always. I'd always remember her reaching toward me, the strong lines on her palm possessing a gravity of their own as I found myself reaching toward her—almost as if I was under some sort of sexy, sexy spell—and placing my palm against her own.

My hand was in her hand then, because there was no place in the world I'd rather it be.

The woman's smile deepened, and it became, in that moment...well...

It became almost wolfish.

And then she practically purred to me: “well, that was easier than expected.”

Quickly, but moving with a smoothness that would have put Fred Astaire to shame, she took my hand and arm and threaded it through her own. She turned, and because my arm was linked through hers, I was pulled after her like a tugboat.

And we began to walk down the trail together, back the way she'd come, Sunny trotting (slowly) after both of us.

“Uh...what are you doing?” I asked, chuckling awkwardly.

The woman—about a foot taller than me, though her leather shoes had little heels in them—glanced sidelong at me, and she actually laughed. She lowered her lashes, tossed her head to the side and considered me.

And then she shrugged.

“I'm kidnapping you,” she explained.

I laughed again at that. I mean, what sort of response could possibly be appropriate after what she said? It was such a surprising joke that my laughter came instantaneously, and then I just kept laughing, it was so damn hilarious.

And then I began to piece stuff together.

“Oh, that Amanda,” I sighed, rolling my eyes heavenward. I didn't relax next to this stranger, per se, but I became the tiniest bit less tense. “She always sets me up with everyone...” I trailed off, because I didn't want this gorgeous stranger to know exactly how many dates I'd been on. “How long have you know Amanda?” I asked her, intoning the name of my big sister.

Amanda was constantly showing me pictures of her two lesbian employees on her phone, constantly showing me eligible ladies on dating apps, constantly pointing out attractive women in the bar, Lassie's in Lawrenceville, that we frequent together—we're really close.

Amanda hates that I'm single, because she's been with her husband for ten years, constantly extols the virtues of true love and soul mates and all that romantic stuff, and she wants—more than anything in the universe—for me to find that kind of happiness, too.

She says that exact sentence about a billion times a week, give or take.

I'm so grateful for Amanda always being in my court and for never giving up on me in pretty much all things...but sometimes her plans to set me up with ladies are a little...eccentric.

Like right now. Sending a perspective date to find me in the middle of a park at god-awful-early o'clock.

That was just silly.

But Amanda is silly. And this is the exact kind of thing she'd do.

So I rolled with it.

But the stranger glanced sidelong at me, and she raised a brow. “Amanda?” she asked, her head to the side a little as she considered me.

“You know, long black hair that she always keeps in two braids wrapped around her head like Heidi. CEO of Bellfield? She's kind of hard to miss. She talks about sustainable urban gardening a lot?”

The stranger lifted her icy blue eyes heavenward, and then she smirked a little. “Ah, Amanda,” she drawled in the most unconvincing tone imaginable. “Sure. Amanda.”

I blinked up at her, then glanced down at our arms linked together.

I mean...this didn't feel like a dream.

In fact, it felt pretty damn real.

“So...” I swallowed, licked my lips. “What was Amanda's plan? You kidnap me for a day? What kind of date did she set us up with?”

“For a day?” the woman chuckled, her voice low and throaty, exactly like the purr of a very pleased cat. “Sure.”

“What kind of date are we going to go on?” I persisted.

“Mm—well, what are you into?” the woman asked. She flicked a gaze at me that made my spine turn into soft butter, and my heart fluttered against my chest, and lots of other things were set off in my body, including several completely natural sensations in my center, thanks ever so much.

“Um?” is how I ever so eloquently answered her.

“What kind of dates do you like to go on?” the woman asked, and she didn't stop walking, but she also stopped paying attention to where she was going. Instead, she gave all of that attention to me, turning and staring down at me with a hunger in her eyes that made me breathless.

I stared up at her, and I licked my lips, and I didn't know what to say...no one had really ever asked me that before. I'd met ladies in coffee shops and at bars, arranged to meet for movies and dinner. You know, normal date-type situations.

I tried to laugh off the question. “I mean, you know...knights on white chargers, horse drawn carriages...romantic stuff,” I quipped. The thing was, I was kind of telling the truth.

I'm an enormous romantic gestures kind of gal. I love dates that convey a sense of sincerity and are kind of over the top.

But that's when the stranger paused. She smirked with a kind of sly surety, and she leaned down a little, her mouth moving so close to my ear that I almost felt the velvet warmth of her lips against mine. I shuddered beneath the heat of her breath, shuddered beneath the intensity of her.

“Well,” she replied, her head a little to the side, her smirk deepening, “I would have thought you'd be into something a little...wilder than that.”

I chuckled at that, tilting my head toward hers, my whole body thrumming from her closeness, reacting to her with a heat that raced, just under my skin, through all of me, my cheeks as red as a tomato.

The woman stood up, backing away from me, her head to the side, her arm still through mine. “Unfortunately, I left my horse drawn carriage at home,” she drawled then, and her grin deepened. “But I've got a van with blacked out windows, which is kind of the same thing, if you squint a little.”

I blinked.

We'd been joking back and forth, bantering, if I'm even allowed to use that word for the stuff I'd been able to come up with.

But this joke...I mean, it wasn't really that funny.

I managed to laugh a little, though it sounded weak, and I stiffened against her. “Ha, ha,” I told her, wrinkling my nose. I didn't know her well enough to tease her about what she'd just said, and things were a little awkward at the moment, so I didn't feel I could go along with her on that joke, digging it deeper.

So I just stood there, my brow furrowed, as I watched her, waiting for her to say something else.

But she...didn't. She put her head to the side a little further, her grin turning positively wicked...

And then, without warning, she tugged me off the path.

At this point, the trail had left the woods, and was curving along the stretch of road that ran through the park. There were parking spots along the lane, and almost all of them were empty...

Except for one...

I stared.

Everything happened so fast, and yeah—I know—she'd said she was coming to kidnap me, but that was a joke, all right? And she was so damn attractive and my guard was down and...

I wasn't thinking straight.

The parking spot?

It contained a big, black van.

It had windows, but—exactly as she'd said—they were blacked out.

She pulled me to the parking spot, and the van door rolled open on its own, only it wasn't on its own, because there was someone inside opening that door, and then I was shoved onto the floor of the van, and my dog jumped in after me, bless her, and the van door rolled shut immediately, and the van was peeling away from the parking spot and onto the road...

And I was kidnapped.

Just like that.

I was kidnapped.

It took seconds, and—like a lamb led to the slaughter—I'd just went along with it.

“What the hell?” was my extremely articulate response to all of this.

The stranger was now sitting in the passenger seat of the van. There was another woman driving the van, and—sitting next to me—was the woman who'd opened the van's door. In the very back, a fourth woman glanced out of the back windows—they were also blacked out, but this was a one-way blacking, I guess, because I could see everything out the back windows, but in a darker sepia color, like through sunglasses.

The only reason I could tell that these were women, and not men, was because of the slope of their breasts underneath their various shirts.

Because the other three women?

They were all wearing ski masks.

That's when I began to realize that, no—despite all of my desperate, wishful thinking—this wasn't the start of a date...

I was being kidnapped.

I was, for real, being kidnapped.

I sat on the floor of the van with Sunny clutched in my lap: she seemed to be enjoying herself, her face exploding in a bright Sheltie grin. Being kidnapped was, apparently, leagues better than being on that damn walk.

For her, at least.

I stared around me at the women who were completely silent.

“What the hell?” I said again, and this time I shouted it.

“No need to shout,” sighed the woman who'd started all of this, the woman who had kidnapped me. She rolled her shoulders beneath her leather jacket and reached over the back of her seat, stretching. She yawned a little and glanced over the seatback at me, one brow raised. “In my defense, I did tell you I was kidnapping you.”

“So...this is a kidnapping,” I managed.

“You catch on fast.” Her brow raised a little higher in her stupidly attractive face, and I felt instantaneous anger burn through me, eating up any fear I'd felt for fuel.

“What the hell? Why? What...?” I spluttered and snarled, and then I settled on a final question: “who the hell are you?”

This time, the woman glanced into the rear view mirror when she answered me, her eyes narrowed as she laughed. “We're the Dogstar.”

I stared.

The Dogstar.

The Dogstar.

Sunny began to lick my hand in the faint hope that maybe I'd stashed that aforementioned treat on my person somewhere, while I sat on the floor of the van and realized that in a very short amount of time, I'd be dead.

Chapter 2: Cake!

I don't know much about the Dogstar—only the rumors that all of the locals tell each other.

They go kind of like this:

The Dogstar is a group of people who are like the mafia and like a gang... I guess you'd just call them a gang. And they're a really bad one.

The Dogstar has definitely kidnapped folks.

The Dogstar has definitely murdered folks.

And...I mean, that's all I know, but that's kind of all you need to know when you realize you've been kidnapped by them, and the very few things you know about them are in relation to kidnapping and murdering folks...

So, apparently, the next item on the agenda for my day was probably being murdered.

The woman in the front passenger seat, the one not in a ski mask, the one who'd started all of this, ushering me down the paths of the park, patently flirting with me to get me into this damn van, was watching my reaction in the rear view mirror, and she appeared to recognize what I was thinking, for she casually glanced over her shoulder at me, brows raised.

“Calm down, Bunny, you're not on our hit list.”

There were a lot of things I could have focused on at that moment, but I squinted at her, bristling. “Bunny?”

She jerked her thumb over her shoulder and pointed at the gigantic white cartoon bunny on the front of my dress. “Bunny.”

“That's not my name.”

Her brows shot up into the air, and then she was actually chuckling. “I know your name, Bunny—I actually know quite a bit about you. What I'm saying, which I kind of thought you'd appreciate, is that we didn't take you to kill you. You're safe with us.”

“I mean...what the hell, though?” There was a lot of bluster in my voice, and I was afraid—of course I was.

But I was also pissed.

“Why in the world would you kidnap me?” I asked her.

She flicked her gaze into the rear view mirror again, and chuckled, shaking her head. “I'm pretty sure you know why, Bunny.”

I fell silent. Sunny squirmed in my arms—I was holding her, perhaps, a little too tightly—but I wasn't going to let go. I gripped my dog and I glared at the woman in the rear view mirror.

Yeah.

I knew why.

My name is Annie Bellfield. And, when I was—I guess—kidnapped, I was walking in the park named after my family.

The Bellfield family.

I guess you'd call me an heiress. Though I didn't take after the family business—that was my older sister, Amanda. She's the one who took over after my parents retired last year and happily moved down to the Florida Keys where, according to my mom's text chains, they're currently living the life o'riley involving a lot of pina coladas—maybe a few more than are actually good for her.

So, yeah, I'm not the owner of the family business, but it's a fairly lucrative business, and I work there, I'm just not the CEO, that's Amanda.

We...um...

Everyone always laughs when I say this, so let's just get it out of the way, I guess:

My parents' parents, a long time ago, started manufacturing pencils.

And now...

Well.

I'm a pencil heiress.

I think people chuckle about this fact because they don't think pencils could result in millions of dollars, but there you go.

There's a lot of strange and wonderful things in this world, like the fact that folks will always need pencils. There's never a recession on pencils.

I also feel that, while I'm mentioning it, I should say that the whole pencil-empire thing?

That's not the strangest thing about my family.

I'll explain later.

Anyway, I took a deep breath and held my dog a little closer to me, letting my air out slowly through my nose, watching the woman in the rear view mirror.

I was waiting for her to say something else.

I needed to know who had put her up to this.

Because I had a sinking feeling I knew who it was.

I cleared my throat, then, tilted my chin up when the woman flicked her brilliant blue gaze into the rear view, smirked, and then glanced out the windshield again.

She didn't look like she was set on talking about anything else.

But I needed to know.

“Why did you kidnap me?” I asked then, and I tried to sound as strong as I could, and I'm pretty pleased to say that the words came out sounding testy rather than terrified. Yes, of course I was scared. The few things I knew about Dogstar were all absolutely terrifying.

But I'm not made of wet noodles.

I can hold my own.

I've always been able to hold my own.

The woman in the passenger seat glanced up at the rear view mirror again, but she was soon staring at the road ahead of us, shrugging elegantly.

“I'm not at liberty to say,” is what she growled.

“You're not at liberty—” I began, and I rose up to my knees in the back of the van until a heavy hand thumped down onto my shoulder, shoving me back down to my bottom on the van's floor. I glared at one of the women in a ski mask, and I didn't feel so much afraid in that moment as I felt angry.

“You can't just—” I began, but whatever I'd been about to say was drowned out by the passenger seat woman, who turned up the radio's volume button.

Hard rock roared over me, songs I didn't recognized but that sounded extremely shouty and angry.

I'm not usually a hard rock gal, but I felt the shouty, angry music on a soul-deep level at the moment.

So I stared ahead in stony silence as we drove along the Pittsburgh streets that were only just waking up, the sky a majestic shade of magenta now...or, at least, I thought it was a majestic shade of magenta...

It was a a little hard to tell from the back of a van with blacked out windows.

It's hard to put into words exactly what I felt. I mean, it was nice, knowing that my kidnapper had told me I wasn't in any immediate danger, and that they had no intention of killing me...for now. I just had no idea if that would change, had no idea if I could trust what she'd said, had no idea of anything.

I sure as hell didn't feel safe.

But here's the thing. My dog? She's pretty damn smart (I know she falls for my “treat” trick a couple of times a week, but I don't count that). Like most animals, she can tell a bad guy from a mile away. She doesn't bark or growl at a lot of folks, but the ones she does bark at definitely give me a “stay away” vibe.

Sunny hadn't given any indication, in this entire time, that the woman who was kidnapping me, and the other women in the gang, were anything other than normal folks going about their normal lives...and not, you know, gang members in the middle of a kidnapping. Sunny sat beside me now, panting happily, giving me her best, happiest doggie grin.

She wasn't alarmed.

I know it's ridiculous, but I trust my dog.

And I didn't have much choice in the matter, did I?

I had to stay put and there was no escape, for now.

So I was just going to have to make the best of it.

I didn't know how many twists and turns the van took, but by the time we'd arrived at our destination (I assumed), it'd been about half an hour since we left the park, maybe more.

The van pulled up to a tall iron gate. It was flanked by two squat stone towers and lengths of stone wall that extend out on either side.

The stone walls stood about twenty feet high.

We'd entered Upper Saint Clair, a borough of Pittsburgh, but it wasn't in the city itself, rather just outside of it.

The things I knew about Upper Saint Clair didn't amount to much. I knew it was nice, and it's also full of mansions.

We pulled up to the gate, the driver of the van spat something into the intercom after she'd unrolled her window and then...

The iron gates were opening. Slowly, but surely, they rolled all the way open, the van moved through them, and then—through the tinted windows in the back—I could see the gates closing again behind us.

It was a little unnerving, but I lifted my chin and stared out the windshield. I was trying, desperately, to place where I might be, but knowing I was in Upper Saint Clair—we'd passed one of the signs saying so—was better than nothing, right? I hadn't been able to make out a number on the outside of one of those stone towers, but maybe if I could get a hold of a phone (the woman had taken my phone and headphones after I'd gotten into the van) I could...

I wasn't sure what.

I knew for a fact that my first plan, call my sister, was not a good plan—not by any stretch of the imagination.

Because if she got a hold of these women, it wouldn't matter if they were in the Dogstar or not.

Amanda would kill them all.

That's...not an exaggeration.

I feel that I should be up front about something kind of important right now. So, here goes nothing.

Remember how I said that there's something about my family that's a little bit more interesting than being pencil millionaires?

Yeah, about that...

My family...they're werewolves.

Yes, like...actual werewolves. Folks who can change from a human shape into a wolf.

My mother and father and sister Amanda are all werewolves. They're not dependent on the moon or anything like that—basically, if they want to become a wolf, all they have to do is become one. There's no “oh, no, the moon is full!” crap, and they don't randomly become a wolf when they're angry, like the Hulk or something. They change into their wolf shape when they want to, like brushing your teeth or paying your taxes.

Which makes it sound boring and mundane, I guess, when I put it like that, but...it was just always something my folks did. It was perfectly normal to me, I grew up around this.

But it wasn't part of me.

I was adopted. Unlike my mother and father and sister Amanda...I am not a werewolf. I'm a regular old human who grew up in a werewolf pack surrounded by other werewolves...

And I wasn't like them.

Now that I say it like that, there's probably some faint note of a complex in there, or—at the very least—feeling sorry for myself. But I promise you, I'm not sorry that I'm human. I know how hard my parents worked to keep their werewolf selves secret, how hard the entire pack had to work, how difficult it was to live in a human world and be something so entirely...not human.

Werewolves are strong and powerful, and, yeah, it's awesome being able to change into a wolf, not gonna lie.

But this isn't a werewolf's world.

It's a human one.

I saw how hard my sister worked to show that she was perfectly normal when—to the rest of the world—she very much was not. And my heart hurt for her, so much.

I grew up unlike most folks, I guess. My parents were very affluent, something I was always pretty grateful for. My older sister was incredibly protective of me, and my parents were, too, but there was something about the bond that Amanda and I shared. We were so close that we knew what the other was thinking.

She was always there for me, in all ways, and she always kept me safe.

So if she found out that I'd been kidnapped, well...

These ladies weren't safe.

Amanda was going to kill them. Actually kill them. And I did not need blood on my hands, thanks ever so much.

So I needed to stay quiet about this until I was out of reach of them, and then I'd tell her.

I didn't want anyone to be hurt because of me...

Even if they had kidnapped me.

We drove down the snaking paved driveway, through rows of tall maples and oaks, their leaves barely allowing the shimmering sunshine to make it down to the ground beneath their towering heads. There were manicured gardens full of late-summer flowers and I swear I saw a stone statue or two somewhere in there, though it was hard to make out clearly with all of the hedges that surrounded these gardens.

The grass was low-cut, and it was patterned in a chessboard design—kinda ritzy. I wrinkled my nose and stared out the windshield and clung to my dog and tried to decide how I could get out of this. Maybe if they opened the doors I could possibly make a run for it down the paved driveway?

I realized—pretty quickly—that this was going to be impossible.

So when the van came around another bend of maples and oaks, when the sprawling mansion came into view...I just took it in and realized I was going to need one hell of an escape plan to make it out of here.

Honestly?

The mansion looked like a fortress.

It was several stories of the classic brick that old, turn-of-the-century mansions were built of in Pittsburgh. It was a rather square-shaped building, with a lot of tall windows and—in the front—there were two porches, stacked one atop the other, surrounded by railings and thick white columns.

It was a pretty standard mansion for the area, and I'd seen many just like it, but my stomach turned inside of me as we drew up in front of it.

As I stared up at the big house, I realized why the place gave me a sense of unease.

In front of the main door, on either side, stood two gigantic wolf statues, at attention. They were enormous, as tall as two horses, with thick, bushy coats that had somehow translated very well to stone. Their noses were pointed straight forward, tilted upward just a little, like they were trying to sniff prey in the air, and their eyes were narrowed slightly, as if they were on the hunt... The statues appeared to be pretty old, too, from the sight of the wear along their backs and heads. They struck me as old-old, maybe a hundred years or so

And—honestly?

I'd never seen anything like them.

Wolf statues. The Dogstar. The hair on the back of my neck stood up to attention, and I remembered the other rumor that had been bandied about by folks in my inner circle—in my pack—about the Dogstar.

It was kind of wondered about if the Dogstar was a gang of...well.

Werewolves.

There was no proof of such a rumor, of course...werewolves just like to find others like them, and there's always conjecture, “I wonder if so and so movie star is a wolf, I wonder if that musician is a wolf...” Stuff like that. If you can get close enough for one werewolf to “scent” someone—smell them—then they can definitively tell if they're a wolf or not.

But no one had ever gotten close enough to any of the Dogstar members to say for sure.

So it was just a rumor.

But as we pulled up in front of the house, as the driver shut the van off, taking the key out of the ignition, as I stared at those massive wolf statues, I took a deep breath.

Signs were pointing to: yes. These were werewolves. Don't ask me why I was fairly certain about it—maybe growing up with wolves gives you a sense of them.

The woman in the passenger seat glanced up at the mansion just then with a smile turning up the corners of her mouth. I stopped thinking about wolves and I watched her, just for a heartbeat.

The way she looked up at that mansion, with so much affection glowing on her face, made me think this must be home.

That was something I could understand, and I was shocked by the empathy that rose up in me at that moment.

I look at things like that. We weren't so different.

You know, apart from the whole kidnapping thing.

That woman opened her passenger side door and leapt easily out of her seat, her boots grinding onto the pavement before she turned and pulled the sliding van door open.

I stared out at her, lips pursed, and waited for her to say something as she stared in at me.

For her part, Sunny gazed up at the stranger...

And she wagged her fluffy tail.

I stared down at my dog, my mouth partially open in shock, and the woman chuckled at that, rocking back on her heels, her head to the side as she considered the two of us. “Welcome,” she drawled, and it came out a little sarcastically before she offered a hand to me. Presumably to help me down and out of the van.

I stared at her hand, and then up at her.

“C'mon, Bunny—I don't bite,” she said, and she raised a brow, giving me a little grin that was all teeth, “and when I do bite, it's always been enjoyable for those I've...bitten.”

The way she drawled out the last word had such heavy sexual overtones that if there was a soundtrack that accompanied our lives, there would have been super cheesy saxophone that played in the background just then as I stared at her, my mouth opening further.

But I snapped it shut, shaking my head. No, I wasn't going to take her stupid hand, and I didn't care if that was a childish reaction or not.

I squirmed out of the van, right past her and her hand held out to me, and I carried my dog with me to stand on the paved driveway beside the van.

Sunny wiggled in my arms as I stared up at the house.

My stomach turned inside of me.

“Nova, lay off her,” growled the driver of the van. She'd jumped down, too, and peeled the ski mask up and over her face with a sigh of relief to be rid of it. The ski mask revealed a redheaded woman with porcelain pale skin, a full mouth that looked like it smirked often and dazzling green eyes that she affixed on me then, giving me a warm smile. “Don't worry,” she said, stepping forward and curling her fingers around my elbow—her hand was reassuringly warm and soft against me. “You're safe with us—we're not gonna do anything to hurt you. Promise. There's no need for you to be afraid.”

“Well. Much.” One of the women in the back of the van with me leapt out, too, and peeled her ski mask off with what looked to be equal relief to get out of the thing. She had chin-length black hair, and—honestly—my first impression was that she looked like a model.

She was so damn elegant that I couldn't believe she'd deigned to be under a ski mask in the first place. She massaged the back of her neck, rolling her shoulders as the fourth and last in the van jumped down to the ground beside her.

She'd already taken the ski mask off in the van and had left it there, and she was unbuttoning the first few buttons of her black shirt now, obviously happy to be in the sunshine as she lifted her face to it. She had long, blonde hair that she wore in a high pony on the back of her head, and she had such a girlish sweetness to her as she turned to me and winked, sticking her tongue out at me from between bright pink lips...the lipstick had smudged a little beneath the ski mask.

“Did we scare you?” she asked, and she looked absolutely delighted by the prospect as she stared at me, waiting for an answer.

“Don't be scary, Halley,” admonished the driver of the van, and she flicked her gaze back to me again. “As Nova informed you, we know who you are, Annie Bellfield.”

I stared at her, my heart fluttering in my chest.

She gestured to the other women surrounding me. “And now you know, as well: we're the Dogstar, and you'll be...staying with us for a little while. Consider what just happened to you to be like...catching a cab to get somewhere. No more and no less.”

“A cab,” I answered, staring up at her and shaking my head slowly. “I don't remember a cab driver ever kidnapping me.”

“'Kidnapping' is such a strong word,” said the driver mildly, raising her brow again. “Please, can we go inside? We can get comfortable, freshen up...explain ourselves.”

I didn't really have a choice, did I. I nodded, jaw clenched, and I began to walk toward the house.

It was a little unnerving, how these women fell into step around me, forming an easy circle as if they walked in formation together all the time. Each one of them moved with a smoothness...a predatory gait that was all refined grace, underscored with an innate menace that you'd have to be really staring at them to see...but it was there all the same, emanating from them in waves.

The woman who'd kidnapped me, who'd started everything...I guess her name was Nova, as someone had just called her that.

She's the one who reached the front door, and she's the one who opened it for the rest of us.

It was unlocked.

Nova saw my questioning glance as she held the door open, stepping aside for me and the others, and she grinned at me, again showing quite a few more teeth than was absolutely necessary.

“Why would the Dogstar need to lock their own front door?” she asked with an easy shrug. “We have nothing to be afraid of.”

And that was probably true.

An uneasy shudder passed through me, which I—hopefully—hid from my captors as I moved into the front room of the house, glancing around at the finery without allowing my expression to change.

Inside, it was a fairly nice place, though some would probably have called it a little gaudy. There were a fair number of items and furniture either painted to look gold or were, actually, gold, and that included a large suit of armor (gold), the hand rail of the curving banister that went up to the second level (gold), to the floor (an ivory marble shot through with gold). The rooms were open-concept, large, spacious, and ostentatious. I didn't particularly like it, not that it was mine to like.

I glanced sidelong at the women who still surrounded me, even though we were now inside. They stood in that circle around me seemingly at ease, but there was something in the way they stood...it was purposeful, as if—at any moment, if I tried to make a break for it—they would be able to catch me.

And easily.

They were definitely keeping an eye on me, which I found kind of laughable. The thing was, we were inside now. There really was no place for me to run. As if to cement that fact, I set Sunny down and held on to the end of her leash as she stretched, yawning, wagging her tail as she looked up at me hopefully. She was always hopeful after any walk in which the word “treat” had been mentioned, ever hopeful that it might actually materialize.

I couldn't really help her at the moment.

I glanced around at the women—we were all standing in the entryway and weren't really moving, and it was hella awkward, at least until I realized that they were waiting for someone...

The fifth member of their little gang.

She flowed down the spiral staircase, her long fingers trailing on the railing as she paused a few steps from the bottom and appraised us, the situation...me.

She was a little taller than the woman who'd taken me, Nova, and she was deeply beautiful. She had burnished bronze skin that she'd highlighted in several places—her strong, bare shoulders, her clavicles, the tip of her turned up nose, her cupid's bow. She had a cloud of natural curls that rose around her head like a halo, and her eyes were the kind of brown that reminded me more of molten gold. There was pure power to her form as she stood gazing down at us, her long lashes lowered over her eyes as she breathed slowly, evenly. She was wearing a long, black maxi dress that had no straps, and her chest—a set of perfect curves—held it up easily.

“Astrid,” said Nova, stepping forward and giving a curt nod to this newcomer. “It was easy. She was right where you said she'd be, and she came willingly.”

“Willingly?” I blinked, and then I was stepping forward, and Sunny was coming, too, her leash tugging her to stand alongside me. I glanced up at this new woman, Astrid, and I felt fear when she looked down at me with her glittering gold eyes, so devoid of warmth...

But I was still really, really pissed.

Which explains the following reaction:

“What the hell is happening?” I said then, and there was a growl of frustration in my words, even as I tried to keep my cool. “Why did you take me? What do you want?” And then, in a smaller, sadder voice, I was ashamed to add: “Why?” I took a deep breath, swallowed down any remaining sense of self pity. Hell no. Not today and not now. I needed my anger.

I'd just been kidnapped. I could wallow in self pity later, when I was back at home in a nice, extra-bubbly bubble bath.

Not until.

The woman cocked her head a little to the side, exactly as a predatory animal does when it's considering its prey, planning what it must do in order to kill it and start supper. It's not a very nice expression to be pinned down by, but I stood beneath the weight of it defiantly lifting my chin and holding her gaze.

I did not back down.

The woman finally smirked at that and chuckled, closing her eyes before shifting her gaze to the final few steps as she strode down them, lifting the edge of her skirts with elegant, long fingers. She glided down to the floor and strode up to me, considering me before she circled me—exactly as a predator might.

“You've, of course, been gentle with our guest?” she all but purred to the kidnapper, Nova, and Nova nodded once, twice, a little stiffly, flicking her gaze to me before staring straight ahead as if at attention, her entire body tense as she stood, waiting for this woman to speak...

The way the others reacted to her, as if acquiescing to her, the way she moved among them...I watched this newcomer, and I was struck by the thought that she must be their leader.

The leader of Dogstar.

My suspicions were confirmed when the woman finally stopped before me, nodding, as if she was pleased. “My name is Astrid,” she told me, her voice like warm honey as she murmured: “you are welcome here among me and mine. We are the Dogstar, and—for the time being—you are our charge.”

Charge. That meant someone you take care of...

Didn't it?

“You're...you're not going to kill me?” I asked quietly. My fingers were tight around my dog's leash, and Sunny gazed up at me hopefully, her tail still wagging, but I didn't look down at her—I, instead, held this woman, Astrid's, gaze.

But I saw, from my periphery, how Nova flinched at that word, “kill.”

She flinched and gazed away from me, her jaw clenching and her hands curled into fists by her sides.

“No,” said Astrid, shaking her elegant head. She took one more step forward, and her hand was proffered to me, her fingertips glittering with gold, like her eyes. “You must be kept here, but you are not to be killed.”

“But why.” I didn't take her hand—I didn't touch her. I wasn't going to shake on a pact I never made, a pact that I had no intention of honoring...

And speaking of honoring, the word “honor” wasn't really bandied about when it came to the Dogstar. The few rumors that I knew about them were that they were ruthless, and they killed people.

That didn't exactly give me confidence in her words.

As if she knew the direction my thoughts were taking, Astrid took a step backward, planting her hands on her hips as she looked me up and down. “I know there are a lot of stories out there about us...and they're good stories. They set certain...expectations. They are stories we don't necessarily go out of our way to correct.” Her mouth twitched at the corners, and she gave in to a sumptuous smile. “But I can give you my word that we won't kill you.”

“Your word. That's worthless to me.” I shook my head.

Astrid shrugged indolently, and then gestured to the women surrounding me. “I honestly don't give a damn if you believe me or not,” she said, and her smile grew a little sharper—a little more pointed. “But you're going to have to stay here, so I was trying to make it a little easier for you. And, in a gesture of goodwill...I'll continue to do so. But don't test me, little girl.”

Nova watched me with glittering eyes, one brow raised, as if she might be interested to see how I'd react to that...

And react I did.

I stood, my feet planted hip-width apart, my hands curled so tightly about my dog's leash that the edge of it was cutting into my palm now.

But I stood, and I stood strong, my teeth gritting together.

“I'm not a 'little girl,'” I said slowly, carefully, doing my best to keep my voice neutral and not a snarl.

I didn't exactly succeed.

In the corner of my eye, I saw Nova.

I saw Nova smile at my response.

It was a wide smile.

As for Astrid, her gaze flicked to me before moving away, the gold in her eyes shimmering as she smirked at me, giving another elegant shrug. “Have it your way. I, personally, don't care. You're here, now, and that's what matters.”

Nova continued to watch me, across the little space between us.

Her eyes were surprisingly soft as she gazed at me...

And Astrid noticed this, too.

The leader glanced sidelong at Nova, and then she nodded her head, as if she was considering what might be a solution to a problem. She pointed to me with a gold-nailed finger. “Someone has to have guard duty of you at all times. You are not allowed out of our sight. Nova, you're up.”

Nova shifted her gaze from me in surprise, staring at her leader with wide eyes. “But—I thought—”

Whatever Nova had thought wasn't heard. “You're up,” Astrid repeated, and there was venom in the words.

It was very easy to see how Nova's jaw tightened at her leader's words, how her hands curled into fists at her sides. The two stared each other down, but the moment didn't last very long. In a few heartbeats, Nova had looked away, shrugging easily, allowing the tension to bleed out of her body as if she'd never felt tense a moment in her life. It was surprising how quickly she changed, everything from her expression to the way she was standing went from rigid, almost painful in its tautness, to easy, languid, all in a flash.

Things were obviously at odds between these two. If they were werewolves, all the signs were pointing to the fact that Nova, perhaps, wished she was Alpha of this little group, and not Astrid...

Hm. Interesting.

“Make the rest of the introductions among the others. I'll see you for dinner,” said Astrid, and she glided out of the room, not giving me a backward glance.

Nova nodded once, her gaze on the retreating back of her leader, before sighing just a little. She flicked her gaze to me again, and—whereas before, her eyes had been so hard, so sharp when she looked at Astrid...

Well, now her eyes softened, just a little. Almost imperceptibly. But I was staring at her, so I noticed.

We glanced at one another for a second—just a second—and then she was looking away, running a restless hand through her hair, taking off her thick glasses and pinching the bridge of her nose as if she was suddenly tired. “Everyone,” she murmured, replacing her glasses and gesturing toward me, “this is Annie Bellfield.”

“Hi, Annie,” they said in unison, and I chuckled in disbelief.

This was not the most normal moment in my life.

Nova waved her hand to the driver of the van, the redhead with the smiling mouth. “This is Venus. She's the momma bear of the lot of us, but she doesn't take shit. Tread carefully.”

Venus saluted me, and then began to unbutton out of the jumpsuit, stalking toward the staircase and, I was assuming, a more normal change of clothes.

“This little morsel,” said Nova, gesturing to the shorter blonde with the baby face, “is Halley. She's sweet as sugar, unless you get on her bad side. She's really kinky. Like, really, really.”

“Don't kink shame,” said Halley, and blew a bubble in the bubblegum she'd wadded into her mouth. She gave me a cheeky smile and sat down, languid as a cat, arms and limbs sprawled everywhere, in one of the plush chairs by the door.

“And this gorgeous lady is Selena,” said Nova, nodding to the woman I'd thought looked like a model. Her chin-length hair was severe, and her expression was even more-so as she glanced in my direction before rolling her eyes and striding across the floor toward the staircase.

Like the others, she was wearing nondescript coveralls...but, unlike the others, she was also wearing a pair of tall black heels that looked completely out of place with her ensemble...and the earlier ski mask.

“Are you hungry?” asked Halley, kicking one of her legs in the air from her position on the chair. “I can fix you something if you like, but you're on your own after that.”

I was starving, actually, and my stomach—at the mere mention of food—growled loudly in the stillness, which caused Halley to giggle as she stood quickly, then saluted Nova. “I'll watch her, Noves...it'll give you a chance to change,” said Halley, giving Nova a wink. She didn't wait for Nova's answer, but—instead—threaded her arm through mine and all but tugged me across the floor toward an entrance to a hallway.

“What's your dog's name?” Halley asked once we reached the kitchen, which was a big, sprawling room with new appliances and enough granite to outfit a cemetery.

“Her name's Sunny,” I told her. Halley crouched down immediately on the floor and began to ruffle behind Sunny's ears—something my dog loved immediately, on contact...just like she apparently loved Halley on sight as she enthusiastically began to lick the woman's chin. Halley giggled at that, kissing the end of Sunny's nose, and that was just one of the weird things that had already happened to me that morning: my dog falling head over heels in love with one of my kidnappers.

I'd just have to chalk it up to being one hell of a weird day.

I couldn't help it, Halley's grin was infection, and soon I was returning the smile a little, crouching down beside her. “Sunny really likes being scratched behind her ears.”

“Don't we all,” said Halley, her head to the side and a wide smile on her face as she began to itch behind Sunny's ears. For my dog's part, she ate it up with a spoon, her eyes closed tightly in happiness, her back foot thumping against the floor as she whined happily.

“So, as far as what I've got to offer you in the food department, I'm sorry to say that we don't have much—I've got to go grocery shopping. I'm the only one who remembers to do it, and—honestly—without me, the rest of 'em would probably just starve.” Halley blew another bubble in her gum and winked at me as she rose. She opened one of the doors of the impressive, double-wide stainless steel fridge and gestured inside.

There were some condiments, mostly upside down because they were all close to empty. There was a jar of olives and a jar of maraschino cherries. From the looks of all the bottles lined up along the back of the counters, it appeared that this group had some robust drinking habits.

And, in the center of the fridge on one of the empty shelves, there sat a glass cake dome, and—inside of it—half of a large chocolate cake.

Halley wrinkled her nose, stared into the fridge and sighed. “All right, I guess I wasn't kidding—so there's only cake. I hope that works for you?”

“Um...I don't really think I've got a lot of choice in the matter,” I reminded her gently as she took the cake dome out of the fridge and set it on the counter.

She glanced up at me quickly, and then back down to the cake as she took off the dome, slid open a drawer, took out a much-larger-than-necessary knife. “Are you scared of us?” she asked, blowing another bubble. She kept pushing air into it gently, and the pink bubble grew and grew and grew...until it was just a little bit smaller than her head.

“Well...not when you do stuff like that,” I said, and she chuckled, and the bubble burst and the gum stuck to her nose. She picked it off, strand by strand and stuck it all back into her mouth. She went on chewing as she cut me a big slice of cake.

“Sorry it's so stale from being in the fridge. I live with heathens,” she sighed, and she slid the slice onto a pink plate and slid the plate across the counter to me. I caught it and glanced down at the cake, pressing a thumbnail into it. It'd definitely gotten tough in the fridge, but was still edible.

“No fork?” I asked her, and Halley blinked.

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” she said, and slid the silverware drawer open again. “You know wolves—we try not to eat with our hands, but...” She trailed off.

We were both silent for a long moment, staring at one another, eyes wide.

The cake sat between us.

“Wolves.” I murmured, narrowing my eyes. “So like...wolves.”

I didn't elaborate. I didn't say the actual word, “werewolves,” because, honestly, I know better. You never know who you're taking to, and she could have just been joking.

But Halley stared at me across the counter, her eyes flashing with a peculiar light.

We both knew that the other knew then. We both nodded slowly, carefully, like a really weird, choreographed dance.

“Werewolves,” whispered Halley quietly, and I nodded to her.

And, just like that, it was done.

We knew.

“I mean, after all, that's why she hired us...” Halley trailed off, and then she was taking a deep breath, rolling her eyes at herself, shaking her head. “Sorry, I should probably let Nova tell you...whatever it is she wants to tell you. You're her charge, after all.”

“Who's my charge?” came a low, drawling voice, and Nova prowled into the room, her hands deep in jeans pockets, her chin lifted. Her eyes were narrowed, her thick, black frames—so chic, and so damn sexy—framing her icy blue stare.

And she was staring.

At me.

Her gaze—potent, electric—held me in place, and my breath started coming faster.

Dammit, she was gorgeous, and dammit, was that getting to me.

Nova had changed—she was wearing the hell out of those tight jeans, and a ribbed white tank top, with a plain black bra beneath it. You could tell, clearly, that she was wearing that black bra because the tank top was very deliciously see-through. Also, the sides of the tank top were scooped so low that they almost reached the jeans' waistband. The ripple of her muscles along her sides were a beacon that drew my gaze and made me pretty damn breathless.

I tried not to stare at her, but when she glanced my way with a cocky grin, I knew she'd seen me staring.

Dammit.

“She's your charge,” said Halley, gesturing to me with the knife covered in cake crumbs and chocolate icing before she went back to licking it. I don't think she'd tossed out her gum yet, either.

Nova glanced my way again, and if my knees weren't already melted, they would've melted all over again.

Her gaze...I wish I could describe it better, the potency in it, the strength and...there was something else beneath it all, because when she looked at me this time, her eyes drifted over me. They drifted down. Slow, achingly slow, her eyes traveled back up to my face.

And then, that cocky little grin?

It deepened.

I forgot to breathe.

Nova tossed her hair over her shoulder and rocked her shoulders forward as she pushed back onto her heels. “And what about it?” she purred.

Halley mouthed the word to her, but I could tell what she said, of course.

“Wolf.”

What the hell did that mean?

Nova sighed, rolling her eyes a little, but she nodded after a minute. “Sure. Yeah. Anyway, follow me, Bunny.” She turned and began to prowl back, the way she'd come.

“My name isn't Bunny,” I muttered, not that Nova paid any attention to this whatsoever.

Halley handed me a fork, and with my dog on my heels and a piece of cake in my hand...

I followed Nova.

Chapter 3: Teeth!

I padded quietly after Nova who took several twists and turns down spacious corridors that I'd probably describe as modern and fancy (read: expensive), until we reached a door with stairs leading down. Nova flicked on the switch that illuminated the staircase, and then we went down one flight, into the basement of the mansion.

But the word “basement” probably conjures up a very specific image in your head, and that's...not quite what this looked like.

We were in a “basement” because there's no other word I can think of that means “underground floor.” But this was the fanciest basement I'd ever seen—it looked just as fancy and put together as the upper floor, but the tiniest bit dressed down. There were plush couches everywhere, for one, and an entire side of the room was a pull down screen for a projector (I assumed).

Nova threw herself down on the nearest couch, propped her sneakered feet up on a glass coffee table, folded her fingers over her flat belly and raised a brow at me, that cocky smirk still curving upon that gorgeous mouth.

For my part, I unclipped Sunny from her leash, and my Sheltie ran around in excited, tight circles, then set off to make an entire circuit of the room, sniffing every single thing within her short reach.

I sat down on the edge of the sofa across from Nova and began to eat my cake in small bites, ignoring my growling stomach that demanded I pretty much shove the entire piece in my mouth.

I was also trying to ignore how close I was to Nova. We were several feet from each other, but I still felt the heat emanating from her...

Pulling me in like a supernova, with her own damn gravity. Pun most definitely intended.

My stomach growled, my center ached, and I was all discombobulated, hungry, turned on...and kidnapped.

I hate to belabor the point, but it's the truth: this was one hell of a weird morning.

So Nova stared at me with her sharp eyes and her cocky grin, and I stared the hell back.

It's hard to look intimidating or sexy or...whatever I was going for, when you're eating an enormous piece of chocolate cake. But I still tried.

“So, I'm in charge of you,” is what Nova said then, cocking her head as she considered me like a jumbo crossword puzzle written in another language. She narrowed her eyes a little more, and that sure grin left her face, to be replaced by a slight frown. “Just so we're clear on that: you're going to listen to me. When I say jump, you're gonna jump. Hell, you might even say 'how high?' Got that?”

I stared at her, because I thought she was joking...

And then, when she raised a brow, narrowing her eyes further, I realized that—in fact—this was definitely not a joke.

I laughed so hard I actually choked on a mouthful of cake, but some industrious thumping of my fist to my sternum made me able to breathe again, thankfully. I laughed once more, a little more dryly now, and set the empty plate down in front of me on the coffee table.

We glared at one another.

Her muscled arms were now folded in front of her chest, and her face was impassive...but that single brow was still arched, as if she was daring me to argue.

I rose to the occasion.

“Yeah, no,” is what I told her then.

You've gotta understand...it was mostly the adrenaline pouring through me that made me so suddenly brave to face her down, this woman who I knew had probably killed a whole bunch of people...but it was more than that. I grew up in a family of werewolves, and I was a human in the midst of all those wolves.

I learned to hold my own pretty well.

The trick?

Don't act like you're scared or intimidated or “less than.” Ever. Wolves sense it.

So this wolf? She wasn't going to be sensing anything other than the fact that I was still very, very pissed for having been taken. And, yeah, she may pick up on the whole “I'm super attracted to her” thing, but...I was going to have to work with the setbacks I had.

There was silence, for a long moment, after my words. Sunny was snuffling along the back of the couch, probably on the search for crumbs, completely oblivious to us.

Tension snapped and crackled between Nova and I as we glared at one another.

Nova said nothing, continued to say nothing, and dammit, I really hate that...so I cracked beneath the silence in a few seconds.

I cleared my throat. “You're going to listen to me, and you're going to listen carefully, Nova.” I leaned back on the couch which was, unfortunately, deeper than I anticipated, so I kind of fell back against the cushions a little instead of connecting with the back of it like I'd hoped. But I saved face by crossing my legs and then my arms in front of me, all smooth.

You know. Sort of smooth.

I'd decided to go for broke.

I decided to bring out the big guns.

In my defense—'cause I really need one—what I said next sounded a lot better in my head.

Ahem.

I looked Nova dead in the eyes, lifted my chin, and I announced: “I am Annie Bellfield. My sister is Amanda Bellfield. Of Bellfield Pencils.” I waited for her to react to that, but...she didn't even blink. I mean, it's not the most badass thing in the world to announce, I know, but everyone in Pittsburgh knows the Bellfields...they also know that my sister is kind of ruthless. I kept going: “Amanda is not going to like that you've taken me, and she will tear apart the whole damn world until she finds me.”

The corners of Nova's lips twitched, like she was trying to suppress a smile, but she simply continued to gaze at me, her eyes narrowed, her head to the side, her brow raised as she considered me.

“Amanda Bellfield. Of the Bellfields. We helped build Pittsburgh.” I'm not a bragger, but I wanted Nova to know who she was dealing with. Stories of my sister's temper were actually legendary, and once she knew that I'd been kidnapped...

Well.

It wasn't going to be pretty.

“So you're going to let me go,” I told Nova with a simple shrug. “You're going to let me and Sunny go, and I...I just might be able to forget that this morning ever happened.”

Yeah, I know, I know.

I'm pretty horrible at threats.

For a long moment, there was only silence in the basement—silence and something that was probably an AC unit, purring like a big cat in the distance. There was no sound of traffic, of cars...of other people.

There was only me and Nova (and Sunny, of course), in this big basement, and—in that moment—it felt like we were the only two people (and, you know, dog) in the whole wide world.

And that was fine—for half a heartbeat. But then something seemed to happen on the other couch across from me. Nova, who'd been lounging, seemingly boneless, relaxed and completely at ease...well, she began to rise.

It was almost like a dance, how her muscles gathered beneath her skin, how she rose upward, off of the cushions, until she was standing languidly in front of me, her hands at her sides, her long fingers curving down toward the floor, as her mouth curved, now, in a slanted line before she gave me a wry smile.

I thought she'd make a crack about being a pencil heiress or something...

I hadn't expected her to come toward me.

I watched her, tension rising in me, trying to play it cool.

“Really?” Nova asked, and she stared down at me. She'd been so relaxed half a heartbeat ago, but—in that moment—there was nothing relaxed about her, nothing soft about her at all.

Nova had become hard and sharp.

Nova had become deadly as she stared down at me with flashing eyes.

All at once, she'd transformed from someone so relaxed to something of a predator as she gazed down at me with hooded eyes. There was almost a crackling about her shoulders, of electricity, of lightning. It wasn't real, it didn't flicker like lightning rolling beneath the clouds at the beginning of a storm...

But just because I couldn't see it didn't mean I couldn't feel it.

And God...did I feel it. I felt it bone deep as Nova stared down at me, as her eyes—once so fierce and bright and blue—darkened to something I could only compare to a true predator's, something that wasn't entirely human. She towered over me, and she just seemed to rise all around me...I know that doesn't make a lot of sense, but it just felt like, in that moment, she got bigger, somehow.

But I stared up at her, clenching my jaw. I looked up and up and up as she stood, menacing over me.

And I stared her down.

“I'm not afraid of you,” I murmured to her.

There was a strength in my voice, a power of my own.

I stared her down, and I told her the truth.

I wasn't afraid of her at all.

Nova put her head to the side, her long, brunette hair flowing over one shoulder easily. She was still wearing her black-rimmed glasses, and she took these off now, folding them neatly and setting them on the coffee table between us with a quiet click.

Then...she did something I couldn't quite have predicted.

She leaned slowly over me. She bent down, she put her hands on either side of my shoulders, her palms pressing into the back cushions of the couch...

And, almost nose to nose with me, Nova stared deeply into my eyes, holding my gaze, her expression and her own eyes so dark and foreboding, her breath so hot, her entire presence so...much...that, unbidden, a shiver trembled through me.

The “I'm not afraid of you” I'd so bravely uttered a few heartbeats ago...it seemed empty now.

“Funny,” Nova breathed out, and—at the very end of that word—her voice grew into a growl. “I don't think anyone's ever told me that before. Bunny.”

I tilted my chin, and I looked up at her. At her strong, engaged muscles over her shoulders, the way her arms tensed as she held herself above me, leaning forward at the waist, her hands pressing into the couch back. Her warmth, her scent, was all around me, and I found myself inhaling deeply, as if on impulse. There was a heat to her, as she lingered above me, and that seemed to merge with the perfume or the cologne she was wearing...something dark and deep and mysterious, something I would say would normally only be worn by men. Powerful men.

But she possessed what was needed for that scent to be her own. She possessed enough strength to own it, utterly, the intoxicating fragrance that was partially the cologne and partially the heat of her skin as she rose over me.

Nova was clearly trying to be intimidating. She was trying to be frightening. She was trying to show me my place.

Maybe I'm stupid, or maybe I'm brave, or maybe there's only ever a mixture of the two combined. I don't know.

But I wasn't intimidated by her.

I wasn't afraid of her.

And that made us equals as I tilted my chin up to her, as she rose over me and I stayed beneath her, but in the struggle of power that slipped and twisted between us, there came a stillness.

We stared at one another, watched one another, eye to eye, heart to heart.

I know I should have been afraid of her. I know. But...and I don't really know how to explain it. But.

I knew, staring up at her, at her strength that she was showing me so clearly...

I knew she would never—could never—hurt me.

And...I don't know how I knew that.

It just unfurled in me, like a blossom opening, relaxing into being.

I just knew.

“You've been taken against your will,” Nova growled to me then, but there was now a furrow in her brow, as if she was staring at a puzzle whose solution was—surprisingly—eluding her.

“I know,” I told her, and I tilted my chin up higher, defiance rippling through me, a powerful current. “And you're going to let me go.”

For a moment, just a moment, her eyes—darkened and so sure just a heartbeat ago—well, that certainty flickered.

For half a heartbeat, she was unsure.

Nova leaned down, her mouth inches from my own. The powerful attraction I'd felt when I first met her—well, let's be honest, the whole kidnapping situation put kind of a damper on things...

But there's no denying your body.

When you're hungry, you eat.

When you're exhausted, you sleep.

When you crave...

Well.

You crave.

Bodies are simple like that. It's human heads that complicate everything so much.

Nova leaned down toward me further, deeper, and with my chin tilted up so high, our mouths almost met as her gaze raked across my face, then down, down my body. I knew my breathing was coming faster, knew that my heartbeat was starting to quicken its thrum, blood racing just beneath my skin.

But I held her gaze, and I did not back down.

“You're not the one who gives the orders,” she breathed to me, her voice a low, husky tone that would have, normally, sent a shiver of desire racing through me. But I was currently in battle with my body...

And, through sheer willpower alone, I won.

“Watch me,” I told her.

She sneered at that, giving a low chuckle as she shook her head. “You rich little girls are all alike—you know that?” she asked, her head to the side, her eyes narrowing. “Throwing around your money like it's actual power when it was earned by mommy and daddy, and you never raised a finger in your entire life to make a dime of it.”

If she'd punched me in the stomach, it might have hurt less.

My cheeks flushed hotly, and I knew my breathing was coming harder, knew she'd gotten under my skin. “You don't know anything about me,” I whispered to her.

Nova put her head to the side, considering me.

“Don't I?” Her voice was hot, clipped. “I know you and your sister inherited your parents' fortune. I know your sister manages the family business because you couldn't be bothered to step up and take the reins.”

This wasn't true. Of course this wasn't true. It shouldn't have bothered me so very much.

But...it did.

I said nothing.

What did it matter what she thought of me?

Why did I even care? She was my kidnapper, for God's sake.

But the truth of the matter was: I did care. I hated that I did, make no mistake—but that she thought so little of me was jarring and wounding, my heart aching inside of me.

But, even though the pain was roaring through me, even though she'd struck my deepest scar...I didn't back down either.

I locked eyes with her, gritted my teeth together.

And I breathed: “let me go.”

Nova's face was now a perfect mask of insincere interest, as if she was glancing down at a new bug she'd just found, and she was considering exactly how she might pin it to a board and watch it wriggle away its last bits of life.

There was none of the earlier tenderness or softness to her expression.

There was only sharpness.

“No,” she answered me simply. “I will not.”

I took a deep breath.

“Then I'm going to leave,” I told her.

Nova laughed at that, a low chuckle, and she shook her head from side to side while she maintained her gaze. “No, you're not. It's not possible.”

“Really?” I breathed out. “How exactly are you going to stop me?”

“You are never going to leave my sight,” Nova hissed, voice low. “Every moment of every day, you are my charge. I will not harm you or hurt you or cause you pain or distress, but you will know now, and moving forward, there is not a heartbeat in which I will let you out of my sight. This place? It's a fortress. The hardest cons in the world can't break in, and some rich little girl's just gonna waltz out?” Her grin deepened, her teeth looking a little sharper than usual. “Not on my watch.”

“Stop calling me a 'rich little girl.'” I growled. “I am none of those things.”

“You're rich.”

“That's not a crime. My family worked their asses off for that money. And I've worked beside them, every single step of the way, always.” My jaw tightened. “Just...stop.”

She actually looked surprised by this, and again—for only half a heartbeat—there was that flicker of uncertainty on her face. Maybe someone else wouldn't have seen it...

But I kept staring at her, kept my gaze locked on her...

It was easy to see when I couldn't look away.

Nova drew me in. And I had to be careful with that.

She drew me in more powerfully than was comfortable to admit.

“I kidnapped you,” she replied to me, after a moment, where it seemed like she was searching for words.

“Yeah,” I replied, and I said it again, stronger, louder, the truth: “and I'm not afraid of you.”

Nova leaned closer, pressed her full mouth to my ear. The intimate contact was so surprising that I almost shivered from the heat and softness of her skin against me, almost shivered from the intense contact...but I managed to tense my entire body.

I wouldn't allow her that intimacy, the knowledge of what she did to me, even in this dangerous situation.

I wouldn't let her have this.

Nova leaned close, brushed her lips against my skin softly, gently. And then her hot breath caressed me as she whispered: “you should be.”

She stepped away from me, then. Nova was wearing that tank top with the low sides, and when she took about three steps back from me, and away from the coffee table, her long fingers were at the hem of her shirt, and she peeled it up and over her head and tossed it aside where it crumpled in a heap on the floor.

I stared at her, mouth open, eyes wide, as her fingers found the clasp in her bra behind her, and that, too, folding over her shoulders, pooling down her arms, found its place in a heap on the floor. She undid the clasp on her jeans, pushed them down with her panties, which I didn't get a chance to even look at, because before I could blink, they were on the floor, too, her sneakers cast off and aside.

I grew up in a werewolf family. You've got to take off your clothes before you change into your wolf form, or it's going to be a very uncomfortable—and almost impossible—transition. I'm used to nude bodies, and—here's an extra uncomfortable fact for you—I'm used to seeing my own family naked.

Nakedness doesn't usually phase me—I've seen it all.

But I hadn't seen...this.

Her.

Nova stood, feet in a strong stance pressed into the floor, her arms hanging easily at her sides. She was tall, remember, and even though she stood there naked, something that normally makes you so vulnerable, an intimate act...there was nothing about her that didn't retain its strength or its power.

Or its intensity

Nova was pretty muscular, but not in a bodybuilder sort of way...she had lean muscles that made me think of grace. Someone who uses their body in motions that the bones and blood and muscle were truly meant for, muscles sculpting themselves just beneath her skin, stitching strength into every line and curve of her as she ran (I assumed she was a runner from the look of her). There was a six pack of abs along her stomach, and that was...surprisingly hot. Not that I don't find muscles attractive on a normal day, but I honestly can't remember the last time I saw a woman with such a well-defined physique, and all the power and determination that it had probably taken her to build her body from the ground up...

Well.

It was mesmerizing.

Nova was fairly tan, and there weren't any tan lines, so it struck me as my eyes roved over the gorgeous curves of her breasts, the flat lines of her stomach, the swell of her hips and the curve of her thighs—and her center, God, her center—that she probably laid out in the sun in the nude in order to get that perfect, all-over tan.

I thought about her on her stomach, her breasts pushed into a soft outdoor recliner, or into the ground. I thought of her lying down, eyes closed, her head pillowed on her arms, relaxing, her long legs relaxed, apart, the swell of her ass warm from the sun's heat...and a flush spread over my cheeks.

I shouldn't have been phased by her or by this. She was a naked stranger, yes, and a naked stranger I found attractive...double yes. But, again, I've seen my share of nakedness. This shouldn't have mattered.

But it did matter.

I had to admit to myself...this was different from anything else that had come before.

It was the fact that she was so confident as she stood there without a shred of clothing against her skin. It was the fact that she stood so easily, assured, her chin tilted up, her bright blue eyes flashing as her mouth curled up at the corners in her cocky grin.

It was the fact that it was her, Nova.

Dammit. I didn't want to feel this powerful attraction, surging through me and toward her.

But sometimes we don't get to demand how we feel.

Sometimes...we just have to feel it.

So that attraction roared through me with an incandescent power, with a rawness that made me breathless as Nova strode toward me, her muscles gliding under her skin with each step she took, like a predator, like a big cat...

Like a wolf.

Nova came to stand in front of me again, so close that I could have reached up with my fingers, traced them over the softest of skin at the back of her knee, up between those perfect thighs...

My face was as red as rubies, my breath moving as fast as I could bear as I tilted my chin up, looked up at her...

And then...

Nova bent forward.

For half a heartbeat, I thought she was descending to kiss me. It's ridiculous, I don't know why I thought that, but I did all the same. I watched her mouth move down towards mine, watched her bend forward at the waist, watched her eyes close, watched her curves moving in the soft light of the room...

And then, it began.

The change.

I knew what Nova was. But she, I'm assuming, had no knowledge I possessed her secret.

When you're a werewolf, transforming from your human self to your wolf self...well, it's got to be among friends.

Or enemies.

There's no middle ground.

You change in front of someone who matters, good or bad. You save that deepest, most precious part of yourself, only for someone who matters.

And right here and now, in front of me...Nova was showing me this part of her. She was transforming...

And I hadn't been expecting this.

When Nova curved forward, I could see that curve reflected in her spine. The individual sinuous bones began to shift and change, moving like there was a beast just beneath her skin, rising inside of her, clawing its way out...

And there was.

Nova's tanned skin that had so drawn my eyes was now shimmering beneath my gaze, as if there was an illusion being performed for my amusement. But this was no illusion. The way the gray fur sprouted from inside of her, blossoming quickly, unfurling over her like a new planet evolving life in quick time made my heart rise in my throat. Again, I've seen wolves transform more times than I can count...

But they were my family, folks I'd known from the tiniest child. There wasn't anything alluring or mysterious in their transformations...these were everyday, run of the mill things that happened in front of me constantly, actions like eating and sleeping and laughing...it was so, so normal.

Ordinary.

But she wasn't part of my normal life, and there was, honestly, nothing normal or ordinary about the rush of heat that rose inside of me when I watched her, the rush of heat that claimed every inch of my own skin, every inch of my blood and bones as I watched her move in front of me, close to me, against me.

As I watched Nova change.

Tension radiated from me as Nova's fur began to grow over her skin, a new pelt blossoming, her bones lengthening beneath that newborn fur. I felt my own muscles tighten as I watched hers unfurl, as I watched her legs and arms unmade and then remade again.

The transformation from human-shape to wolf doesn't take an eternity—a minute, maybe less, and the person you'd just been talking to is replaced by a shaggy beast who stands before you and looks exactly like a wild wolf, perhaps a little taller...

Just with more human eyes.

Because there is the human inside of them, somewhere. I don't pretend to know how being a werewolf works, and heaven knows that the werewolves themselves haven't exactly figured it out yet (having to exist in secret has got to put a damper on the scientific angle of things), but a werewolf is—according to stuff my mom told me—a perfect blend of animal and human and what a human could yet become.

Werewolves possess a dichotomy that's constantly at war inside of them, the human and wolf halves, each one vying for control at any moment.

You know you've grown up when you can fully master both parts, my mom said once. And, as the human transformed into the wolf in front of me, I knew that Nova had achieved that mastery, and she'd probably done so early on, for her movement from one shape to the other was flawless and smooth, like watching the ripple of waves across a sea, how the wolf rose up inside of her and took over.

It wasn't very long at all until there was nothing human in front of me.

There was only wolf.

She stood a little taller than my waist. Her fur was a sleek, gray pelt, with wisps of black that stood out a little taller than the rest of her fur. The longer, black strands moved in the breeze coming from the AC vents, and I stood, transfixed, taking her in. Her paws were enormous, and I realized they mirrored her large hands and long fingers. Her claws weren't very extended, but they were visible, noticeable...present, as she stood, her paws planted firmly beneath her strong, muscular shoulders that rippled beneath her pelt as she shifted her weight, taking a step forward.

There was no sound when she moved.

Like any true predator, she would be silent when she hunted.

I was still seated on the couch, and when Nova moved in front of me, taking those steps until her face was on the level with mine...we were truly eye to eye, nose to nose...

And that was...

Well.

It was electric.

Have you ever gotten a shock? Like...a real one, involving electricity. Maybe, as a kid, you totally went against your parents' ideas on what should go into an electrical outlet, and suddenly you're a five year old electrician who's shoving a paperclip into the little holes in the wall, and you realize—very suddenly—why your parents said you shouldn't do that.

Yeah...I was one of those kids.

I was about five when it happened. I'd found a paperclip on the floor right outside of my parents' study door, and there was an electrical outlet right there, right next to the paperclip, practically, and I remember feeling like it was taunting me with its possibility. What exactly would happen if I plugged in a paperclip? Maybe I would start off my great scientific career! I mean, who could possibly know, right?

I just had to try it.

So I unbent the paperclip and jammed it in there like Ben Franklin discovering electricity with a kite and a key. Except, and I guess this is a history spoiler, I wasn't Ben Franklin, and electricity had already been discovered, and—again—I was only a five year old with a paperclip.

The shock wasn't bad enough for me to lose consciousness, I remember that much. But the strength of the electricity was enough to make my teeth grit together, the sizzle of it traveling up and down my spine, and I remember seeing stars, pricks of light along the very edges of my vision. Those stars blossomed immediately and fully, like fireworks exploding in the sky, and they remained in my eyes long after the shock actually ended, and I found myself on my back, staring up at my parents' ceiling.

It was painful, yes, I'm not going to lie—that's why people are pretty damn averse to shocks. But it was also...well. The only word I can think to describe it is “incandescent.” I'll never forget how I felt in that moment, because my bones, my teeth, my muscles...even my blood itself, seconds before the pain descended...

It felt like I was made of light.

Here and now was the only time I could ever say I felt similar.

Seated in her presence, seated before this massive gray wolf, her eyes trained on me, mine trained on her...

The two of us locked together.

So I felt those pulses of light moving through me, but I stayed where I was. I showed nothing with my face, with my body language: wolves can read both of these easily, and they can scent want, desire, fear...they can scent your emotions clearly.

I wondered if Nova scented that strange light that moved through me just then. That strange feeling of incandescent possibility.

Nova was close enough now that if I reached up, I could push my fingers deep into the thick fur of her neck. We stared at one another, and I'd been looking so hard into her eyes, not wanting to waver, that I'd failed to notice something crucial...

Her lips were now up and over her teeth.

Her wolf's teeth.

Her fangs were long and glinting in the soft light as she soundlessly stood there, barring her teeth to me.

It was now or never.

I had to show her the truth. My truth.

So I reached up. I licked my lips, my heart hammering a tune too fast to hear as I reached up and hesitantly, gently, pushed my fingers into her fur.

It was soft and hot, the ends of each individual strand rough against my fingertips until I reached down and into the depths her fur...then I felt the softness of her undercoat, and the heat of her body, radiating up and into my skin.

Nova was surprised by this touch. I knew she was. She blinked, her lips falling down and over her teeth again, her jaw a little open, as if reflecting her surprise.

But it didn't last long.

Her mouth opened in a growl, now. I felt the vibration of it through my fingertips, felt it rumbling through my palms as I touched her, but I wasn't dissuaded. I'd known what I wanted to do, and now I was halfway through.

I needed to see it all the way.

My fingers drifted through her fur, up her neck, and my palms cupped her strong, wolf jaws. Nova's eyes flickered as my hands moved, but she stayed as she was, standing before me, her lips up and over her teeth.

I didn't stop.

My thumbs reached up, and my skin felt the hot bone of her fangs. And I shivered at that. I couldn't help it. Her large, sharp teeth were slick from her spittle, and hot from her blood, and beneath my fingertips, I felt the give of that sharpness—how those fangs could tear through my skin in less than a heartbeat, my blood blossoming like an ugly flower, over my skin and into her mouth.

I felt of her fangs, but I stayed still before her, my hands against her face, my fingertips tracing her sharp, sharp teeth.

I stared into Nova's eyes and we stayed that way, unflinching.

I leaned forward. I felt her hot breath against my face, felt her sharpness beneath my hands. But I looked into her eyes, I tilted my chin up, and I told her the truth once more. The absolute truth.

I took a deep breath, and I whispered to her: “I'm not afraid of you.”

The heat of her shrank back from my palms, then. The wolf took one step backwards, and another, her eyes wide in shock as she stared me down, surprise palpable between us.

And in that moment, we knew the measure of each other.

Chapter 4: Escape!

I woke up drenched in a cold sweat, the sheets balled up beneath my palms, tangled around my thighs and arms. My dog, very disgruntedly, had moved as far away from me at the bottom of the bed as she could reach, and when I glanced down at her, she gave me the annoyed expression of a Sheltie that had probably been kicked quite a lot during sleep.

“Sorry, baby,” I crooned to her, sitting up sleepily and massaging Sunny behind her ears. This seemed to mollify her, for she put her snout back onto her paws and watched me in the dark, her eyes alert.

It wasn't fully dark in the room, not exactly. There was a light on in the hallway just outside of the bedroom, and that gave me quite a bit of light. I glanced around the space and frowned. It was pretty much exactly the same as when I'd fallen asleep.

There was a modern-looking white dresser, the bed on which I was sleeping, a lamp and a bedside table, and a comfortable, plush chair. There were several windows behind black-out curtains that had been tightly drawn, but that was it.

Not to be dramatic or anything, but this was currently my prison.

The rest of the day had been pretty uneventful...you know, after the sexually charged changing-into-a-wolf situation.

Things between Nova and I were currently...complicated.

The thing was, her plan hadn't worked, changing into a wolf to, I assume, intimidate me (she hadn't said as much, but her posture had been pretty clear). And, honestly, she could posture all she liked—it wasn't going to frighten me.

Now, to be fair, I don't know if she transformed into a wolf in front of me entirely to cow me. I knew that transforming into your wolf self involved a lot more than intimidation tactics and frightening folks. It was, as I mentioned, an incredibly intimate gesture. Whatever the reason Nova had started to transform, she'd still gone through with it. She'd still shown me her secrets.

You don't trust a stranger with that deep of a part of yourself randomly.

There is nothing random about choosing to reveal that depth.

She'd chosen to show me.

And now...well, now...

I was still kidnapped. I still had no idea why I was being held here (it had to do with my family, obviously, but that was all I knew).

And I was still stuck here.

I leaned back on my elbows and glanced down the bed at my dog. When I looked at Sunny, she thumped her fluffy tail a couple of times against the coverlet, as if to say she was up for anything I was.

I leaned down again and scratched behind her ears as I considered my options. It's not like I hadn't thought about escape before I'd fallen asleep, but I'd been exhausted and had gone out like a light the second my head hit the pillow.

I guess kidnapping kind of takes it out of you.

Please sense my sarcasm there.

Anyway, there was a clock that hung on the wall above the window at the foot of the bed. It read close to three, so it was three o'clock in the morning.

Nova had left me in this suite of rooms. She hadn't said much after the whole transformation thing, and she'd brought me some takeout dinner—french fries and a grilled veggie sandwich—but we'd spoken very little. She was quiet and brooding, and sexy as all get out, but I noticed something...

I thought it was interesting that she hadn't asked me why I knew werewolves existed.

I blew my hair out of my eyes and thought long and hard about Nova for a minute...and then I thought about my options.

When Nova had left me in the room earlier, she hadn't warned me not to escape. I mean, the whole thing was implied, clearly.

I got up out of the bed, padded across the floor to the closest window and gazed down at the ground, thoughtfully tapping my lips as I frowned. I was two stories up. I could lower Sunny if I wrapped her super tightly in a sheet. And then I could climb down that sheet myself.

I could get out of here easily.

I'd crept out of my bedroom when I was a teenager, I knew how to tie sheets in knots so that they wouldn't come undone. (I wasn't a bad kid, but I went to my fair share of parties that my parents wouldn't have exactly been thrilled about.)

I could do this.

The only problem was that the Dogstar house was so far removed from the street, from other houses...from everything else. It was set far back on its “estate,” and even if I screamed, I wasn't exactly certain if anyone would hear me.

So Sunny and I would have to sprint, would have to run like hell for the stone wall and civilization.

The problem?

Werewolves...well, they've got good noses. I assumed that they'd be able to pick up on the fact that I was somewhere I shouldn't be. Or, even worse, if one of the Dogstar members was patrolling around the house on some sort of guard duty...they'd find me pretty quickly.

I'd never been hunted by a werewolf in the dark, but I was assuming it was not an enjoyable experience.

I stared down at the ground...the ground that wasn't that far below me.

Yeah, I was attracted to Nova. But it was probably based on something horrible, like Stockholm Syndrome.

I should probably go while I had the chance.

Yes.

I should go now.

I glanced back over my shoulder, my adrenaline beginning to course through me. I thought I'd used it all up earlier, but humans are surprisingly great at manufacturing pretty much constant adrenaline, so my senses were heightened, and I was immediately on edge as I glanced back into the hallway and the sort of living room that was off the suite's bedroom. Nova had dropped me off into the rooms, and she'd left.

I was alone.

There was no one to see me go.

It was now or never.

I tossed the comforter off the bed, and I peeled the sheets off the mattress, tying them together neatly. There were three sheets, all told, and I tied them securely to one another and then to the foot board at the end of the bed.

I pushed the window up and open. There was no screen.

It was still alarmingly warm outside. The mansion was air conditioned, so I gulped down the warm air, taking a deep breath of it, scenting the grass and the trees and the irrepressible perfume of an almost-autumn night. My heart was in my throat, yes, but that gulp of air gave me hope. And made me want to leave more than ever.

I glanced out, pushing my upper body out of the window and took in all of the grounds. I listened as hard as I could, but I couldn't hear a damn thing except for loud insects, singing about the end of summer.

It looked like the coast was clear.

“Come here, baby,” I whispered to Sunny and patted my leg. My dog bounded off the bare mattress, where she'd been snarfling and rolling about in ecstasies. There's nothing like making a bed (or unmaking it) to get a Sheltie excited about life.

Sunny danced over to me, and I took the end of the sheet, holding it out to her to sniff.

“Mommy's gonna do something a little weird...just go with it, okay?” I asked her, pitching my voice so it sounded excited. Sunny wagged her tail at me, but glanced askance at the sheet.

She knew I was up to something before I'd even started.

Shelties, man. They're perfect but constantly suspicious.

When I started to wrap the end of the sheet around Sunny, she thought for about half a minute that I might be engaged in a Fun Game. When she realized that this was not the case, her ears pinned to her head in a kind of dejection that slayed me. I wrapped the sheet as tightly around her as if I was wrapping a Christmas present, and when I'd done the knot, well...she kind of looked like a Christmas present—a really weird one.

She also could hardly move. Which was a good thing. I was going to lower her out of a second story window—I wanted to make sure she reached the ground in one happy, fluffy piece.

When I lifted Sunny to the edge of the window, she began to scrabble with a “you've gotta be kidding me” look on her panicked little face.

“You've just got to trust me, kid,” I grunted, and then I gripped the edge of the sheet and I lowered her gently and steadily over the edge of the windowsill.

Sunny sort of hung in space, and when she looked up at me, her eyes were as round as saucers. She scrabbled her paws in the air like she was swimming, but I crooned gently to her and lowered her softly, slowly, down, down.

When Sunny's paws brushed against the ground, she tried to scrabble away from the sheets, but she had no such luck—she was still tied up tightly in them.

“Just hold still, baby,” I whispered down to her and glanced over my shoulder again.

There was nothing and no one but me in the room. I was still alone.

Okay.

It was time.

But...

I'm about to say something, and I know it's going to sound odd, but...it's the truth. So I'm going to tell it to you:

When I glanced back into the well-lit hallway, when I glimpsed the doorway that Nova had brought me through...I paused for a long moment. Longer than even I was comfortable with. I stood there, and I lingered, and I gazed at the doorway Nova had touched with her warm hands, her long fingers tracing over the edge of the elaborate wooden trim as she'd asked me, gruffly, if I needed anything else to be comfortable. She'd averted her eyes when she'd asked me that question, her jaw clenched...but it was still sincere.

I thought about the ripple of her stomach muscles when she'd changed back from her wolf shape. All of the wolf was gone, and she'd stood gracefully, curving upright until she stood, straight and tall, in front of me, in her human form. Naked and wild. Her muscles had literally rippled, and when she stood there, when I saw the slopes and curves of her, the knowledge of how incredibly intimate that moment was as I stared up at her...

A roar of desire had consumed me, like wildfire, burning me alive.

All I possessed was heat when I stared up at that glorious creature standing before me.

I'd wanted her...I'd wanted her so badly...

I still wanted her.

I sat down on the edge of the windowsill, and I took a deep breath. Want was all well and good...but I had to leave. This might be my only chance.

But not all of me wanted to go.

I know it's ludicrous. I know. But there was something about Nova that called to me, that called to my body—to every inch of my body—and...

And to my heart.

She called to my heart. Her intense vulnerability as she'd transformed from woman to wolf, back to woman again. Her intense vulnerability as she'd watched me.

Her intensity...

I swung my legs over the abyss. I took another deep breath—I'm not the biggest fan of heights—and I turned around, gripping the edge of the window and the sheet with my hands.

I wasn't going to see Nova again.

And I had to be okay with that.

But I...wasn't.

For a long moment, longer than was comfortable, I lingered until I felt Sunny tugging at the sheet beneath me.

We had to go.

I could deal with all of my confused feelings later. From the safety of my own home.

I could deal with them.

I'd have to.

I closed my eyes, swallowed, and began to lower myself into the air.

When it was only my hands gripping the sheet and nothing else holding me up, I wondered if this was the best idea of escape...but, come on, I'd done it so many times before. I just had to tell myself it'd be easy.

Well. That wasn't exactly true. It wasn't easy. I'm a little more out of shape than my teenaged days, and my upper body strength isn't where I want it to be anymore. But I managed to keep climbing down the sheets with my eyes tightly shut, taking it a hand at a time.

And when my toes connected with my dog, I realized I'd actually done it.

I leapt down the rest of the way, about a foot, and when I was down on the ground with Sunny, my dog was ecstatic that I'd chosen to join her, wagging her tail with an enthusiasm she normally reserved for treats alone.

I knelt down beside her, shushing her quietly while casting about...

So far so good. I could see through the windows into the ground level of the house, and there was some distant light down a hallway, but everything inside was still and quiet. It was three o'clock in the morning, after all.

Somehow, amazingly, it looked like I was going to be able to make a clean break for it.

I glanced back up at the house, and my heart sunk into my chest just a little. Nova was back there...

Nova...

God, I was being ridiculous. She'd kidnapped me. It didn't matter that she said she had some great excuse, or whatever. She'd kidnapped me.

And now I'd escaped.

And this was almost over.

This was, perhaps, a celebration that was a little too premature, but my adrenaline and my body—oozing tension—weren't really celebrating. I still had to get the hell out of here. I disentangled my dog from the knotted sheet, and then I took her leash out of my dress's pocket and clipped it to her.

She was ready to go.

And so was I.

It was pitch black out on the lawn and beneath the trees, this far removed from the streetlights. The house sat on a good bit of estate, and this distant from the road, there was just no light to see by. My eyes had adjusted to the darkness on the climb down, but that didn't amount to much.

Clouds scuttled across the low crescent moon as I glanced around me, feeling my skin prick, feeling the hairs on the backs of my arms standing to attention.

This, of course, didn't mean that there were folks out there in the dark watching me...that just meant I was worried there might be. My brain and body, already coursing full of adrenaline, were just reacting to my worries.

Sure.

I found the paved driveway, and taking quiet steps, Sunny and I began to trot down it toward the distant front gate. I could sort of make it out in the dark, and it was absolutely demoralizing, how far away it was.

Maybe too far.

I kept taking looks back over my shoulder. The house sat, impressive and large and dark behind me like a sleeping monster.

This did not help my overall feeling of dread.

As we walked along quickly, I couldn't help but think...it'd been awfully easy to sneak out.

Maybe too easy.

So Sunny and I trotted along, sometimes almost running. The farther away we got, the safer I felt to just book it, my feet pounding the pavement, Sunny's paws bouncing off of it as my pudgy little Sheltie trotted at speed. She raced right along beside me, never flagging. She must have noticed mommy's adrenaline, and—for once in her life—she was actually keeping up.

We loped along, angling for that far away gate.

I paused after a good, long while, for a breath. I had to—I was too damn winded to keep going. I inhaled great lungfuls of air and looked back over my shoulder again at the house. It still sat, impassive and dark, and there was no movement that I could make out in the shadows around the house or in the trees.

From where Sunny and I stood on the drive, I could actually start to hear bits of traffic from the street. Actual signs of life. There were people ahead, and if I could get to the gate, over the gate, through it somehow...I'd be free from this.

It was all almost over.

I turned, tugging Sunny along, ready to start sprinting again toward the gate.

And that's when I saw it.

Actually...

Them.

I was no longer alone.

There were several figures moving slowly beneath the evergreens along the edge of the driveway, closer to the gate. I wouldn't have even spotted them if I hadn't turned at just that moment, and even then, I only glimpsed the smallest movement out of the corner of my eye.

I stood and I stared beneath the trees, my heart hammering in my throat, my blood rushing through every inch of my veins, thrumming with potent dread.

There was someone out here with me.

Several someones.

For half a heartbeat, I hoped against hope that maybe I'd just seen something and there wasn't actually anyone there. Maybe it was just...a branch moving in the wind. I hoped so hard, my entire body radiating tension, my entire body suffused, instantly, with the need to fight or flight...

It could have just been a branch in the wind...

But it wasn't.

I saw movement again, a person-shaped shadow shifting beneath the tree...and another...and another.

I didn't take time to figure out what was happening.

Instead, I turned.

And I ran.

I sprinted diagonally toward the fence that bordered the property. They—whoever “they” were—were blocking my access to the gate, so I was going to have to figure out another plan of escape.

Honestly, there wasn't actually that much “figuring out.”

I just ran.

Sunny ran right alongside me. I think she could pick up that I was unsettled—I refuse to say that I was “frightened”—and she reacted accordingly.

My dog and I raced across the lawn together, and I knew...I just knew, there was someone behind me.

The feelings I'd had earlier when we'd just left the house, that unnerving sensation of being watched...it was so much stronger, now, that feeling of dread, that heavy sensation of someone in the dark watching me, following me, hot on my heels, a predator to my prey.

I hated feeling that way.

I'm not prey.

I'm not prey.

But I couldn't help but be prey in that moment. Because someone, several someones, were following me, coming closer, now, so quiet in the dark...but I knew they were there. I knew they were close. I felt their presence behind me, right behind me...

I was beneath a tree, darting around it, when they caught me.

An arm reached out of the darkness, and I was suddenly snapped backward, my flight stopped so suddenly that I felt my bones creak inside of me from my sudden halt. I gasped as I was whirled around, gasped as a black cloth hood came over my eyes before I could see who was behind me.

But I knew this wasn't Nova.

Whoever had gripped me...the hold on me was hard and fast and cruel. Their fingers dug into my skin. There would be bruises.

My arms were forced behind my back, and my dog's leash was yanked out of my hand. That was the part that made me panic, truly panic. Pretty much do anything to me you want, but leave my precious damn dog the hell out of this.

“Sunny!” I cried out, but the hood was tightened around my neck so much that I choked.

“Be quiet,” someone hissed in my ear. A woman's voice, a voice I didn't recognize.

Just like her hands on me, her words sounded cruel and sharp, and I knew I was in over my head, so completely in over my head. What was I thinking? Why had I left? Was this another member of Dogstar? Had they been super gentle with me before, and now...they wouldn't be?

Was I going to die?

With the hem of the hood tight at my throat, my hands held behind my back, darkness all around me...

It sure as hell felt like it.

Chapter 5: Trouble!

When you think you're about to die, surprisingly—or maybe not so surprisingly—your life sort of flashes in front of your eyes.

I say “sort of” because I think Hollywood may have over-exaggerated how it works. Movies tend to show a music video playing (always sad music, by the way), and you get to watch your greatest hits and greatest missteps, sort of in real time. Here's the moment that you first saw your mom when you were laid in her arms as a just-born babe, here's your first kiss, complete with blush, etcetera, etcetera.

I think my brain realized that slow of a pace was probably going to take too much time.

So, instead of my life flashing in front of my eyes...

I was shown the “greatest hits” of only the past few hours.

Mostly?

Images of Nova's face flashed in my mind's eye.

Now, admittedly, that's kind of weird. I've not lived the longest life, but I've lived a full and relatively happy one. I love my family a lot. My luck in the love department hasn't been stellar, but that'd be kind of odd for a “life flashing in front of my eyes” bit, anyway.

So...it was pretty odd indeed that all I saw was Nova.

In this image my brain had strangely chosen to show me, I saw Nova, and she was smiling at me. It was her cocksure, almost sarcastic grin that her mouth was wearing, and her bright blue eyes possessed a piercing coolness.

It was the kind of look that goes right through you, the kind of look you remember, always. The kind of look that makes shivers race across your skin, makes your spine turn to jelly (and your knees, too, while the rest of your bones are busy becoming liquified), and then there are parts inside of you that flip the “on” switch, and you find yourself taking a step forward into her arms and kissing her with a fierceness that—when you remember it later—will actually make you blush.

Just like that very first kiss you ever had, long ago.

I'd never kissed Nova.

I'd wanted to, though.

And now I wouldn't get the chance.

Not to put too fine a point on it, but that was vastly unfair. And I was angry, suddenly. Angry that this was happening to me, angry that in this whole, big world, I was the one currently in a hood, being kidnapped...

Again.

I wasn't going to take this lying down. I wasn't going to take this again.

So I struggled.

I'd been surprised, naturally, at having a hood thrown over my head, at having my arms wrested behind my back, at being grabbed in the dark...but the element of surprise my assailant had used had finally worn away, and now the instinct of survival was kicking in.

And, frankly, fury. Pure, potent fury was roaring through my blood and bones with a vengeance as I struggled against whoever was holding me.

I guess they weren't expecting me to put up a fight.

Because the moment I twisted, hard and sudden, in their grip, whoever was holding me tightly, standing behind me...

They let go of me.

It was a split second of freedom. I felt the tension, the fingers, leave my wrists, and the whole thing was unbelievable and unexpected and would probably have shocked most people to stay, standing still.

But I'm not most people.

I ran.

I ran straight ahead, and I ripped the hood off my face after the first step. It was surprisingly dark, even after the complete blackness of the hood, but being in that hood had made my eyes more adjusted, I guess. I could see a tiny bit better than I'd been able to before.

I took a few steps, my heart pounding loudly in my throat, my lungs trying to drag in enough oxygen to keep me steady, to keep me going.

But Sunny...

They'd taken her leash out of my hand. She wasn't with me.

And, just like that, I stopped on a dime, and I turned.

There were about five people behind me, beneath the trees in the shadows. I could just make out human shapes, anything else besides that was impossible to see in the dark. They were all seemingly wearing bulky coats, even in the warmth of the September night. They all had their coats' hoods up and over their heads, and maybe a few of them were women, I couldn't tell exactly—they were all just hulking, terrifying shadows to me.

But one of them was holding my dog's leash.

I think that they were surprised that I'd bolted away from them. They hadn't been expecting that, I guess.

And they also weren't expecting this:

I took a deep breath, and I ran forward, toward Sunny, who stood there, stricken, her ears slicked back in discomfort, her leash draping down from the hand of a stranger.

I snatched up my dog from the ground, and I tugged the leash from the surprised shadow's hand, and maybe—with enough surprise on my side—I might have actually been able to get away from them. Maybe there's an alternate universe that exists where I was actually able to. I don't know.

All I know is that, in this universe...

They reached out and grabbed me.

And this time, they didn't let me go.

Breath escaped my throat as my feet ran, and my arm and upper body didn't follow along with them. I was snapped out of the air because I'd been moving so fast, and that propelled me backward, into the person who'd caught me.

It was a woman. There were curves beneath the heavy coat, and a certain sort of softness that I fell against, but that was thought about in the distant reaches of my brain, because the more immediate parts were screamed a red alert that all of my instincts were trying to respond to.

Get out of there! Get out of there! It was thrumming through my blood, my brain, my bones, and my adrenaline was pumping through me so strongly that all I was was pure instinct. I had to move, and I had to move now, but I simply couldn't. The woman holding to me tightly had a grip of steel, and there was no way, now that she was grasping both of my upper arms, that I was going to get away from her.

“We need to leave now,” the woman who'd caught me snarled to the others, her voice made of steel. “Grab the dog. We're leaving through the front gate. Now.”

A guy, taller and thicker than the woman, shook his head. “Cameras at the front gate, like I told you,” he mumbled. “They'll see.”

“Let them see,” the woman hissed to him. “Do you think I give a shit? We got what we came for.”

The man shrugged, and then the woman was pulling me along, the guy stepping forward and picking up Sunny under his arm like my little, nervous dog was a suitcase. The other shadowed people fell in line behind and in front of us, almost like the Dogstar moved around me earlier...

Almost how a wolf pack moves...

I struggled. I pulled on my arms, my shoulders wrenching painfully, my back twisting. I took a deep breath, and I was about to scream when a leather-clad palm clamped painfully over my mouth, so hard that I couldn't even wiggle my jaw open to bite it.

“Make a single sound and I'll snap that dog's neck,” hissed the woman in my ear.

I fell limp against her, my heart pounding so hard I wondered if it was going to leap out of my throat, out of my mouth...

Sunny.

She was going to hurt Sunny.

I was so overwhelmed, so angry, so...well, a million feelings, all of them painful and horrible, bubbling up through me, and I didn't know what to do, but I knew they couldn't hurt my dog.

Like hell they were going to hurt my dog.

So I stayed silent, even when the woman's hand left my mouth. I stayed silent as I was dragged toward the front gate I'd come through, only a few hours before, in the back of that black van. I stayed silent as the woman dragged me toward the open gate...

Everything was happening so quickly that a few things stuck out in my mind.

The front gate was open, yes. But open only a little, wide enough that people could walk through, but no cars would be able to fit. I realized, also, that the folks surrounding me, now that we were getting closer to the street lights, and I could actually make out some features...they were all strangers. I recognized none of them.

This wasn't the Dogstar, then, reclaiming me during my escape.

These folks...they were something else entirely.

My heart sank inside of me, and the cold grasp of fear began to overcome me.

What the hell was going on?

I didn't have much time to ponder that, though. All I could really think about was Sunny and keeping her safe. For her part, my dog was looking at me uncertainly, tucked under the arm of the big man, though her fluffy tail was wagging, long and low, the way she does when she's done something wrong, like maybe eating an entire bag of chips.

Sunny was upset and unhappy, but when she looked at me, she still wagged her tail.

And that, out of all of the events of the day, is what slayed me, then.

My dog was in the middle of getting kidnapped...again...and she was still wagging her tail when I was in her line of sight.

What in the universe did we do to deserve dogs? They're too good for this world.

That was a much better thought to think about, especially since the other ones crowding at the back of my head were all variations of, “huh, I'm probably about to die.” So I stared at my dog and worried about my dog as I was dragged through the open front gate of the mansion's estate.

And if I hadn't been staring at my dog at that moment, maybe I would have actually seen what happened next.

But all I could see was my nervous, sad dog, and that was all that was in my line of sight. So I only heard a loud thump beneath the street light, the kind of sound that's made when something organic—like a body—hits something absolutely unyielding. And the two folks that were striding ahead of the woman and me...they fell to the ground like stones, their limbs rubbery when they hit the ground, gravity claiming them quickly.

My head whipped around, and the woman gripping me tightened her hold on my arms. We both took one heartbeat to stare at the folks ahead of us, unconscious on the sidewalk.

This appeared to not be something she'd anticipated, because she snarled behind me, her short fingernails digging into my skin, and the guy beside her started to say something...

But he didn't get it out.

Instead, he made a low sort of groan, and then he buckled to his knees, toppling to the ground like a house of cards that had been blown over...

The woman's grip on me was so tight and so painful at this point that I winced, groaning a little. The woman was pinning my upper arms together behind me, which caused my shoulders to curve backward painfully.

Sunny was on the ground, since the guy had collapsed—she'd leapt free of him on the way down, because she's a good, smart girl—and my dog stared up at the woman holding me, blinking. I know that the people around us were falling to the ground for no reason I could actually see, and that was frightening and weird and everything, I know...

But I couldn't help but pay sole attention to my dog, because she was free of the guy, standing there, the leash slack on the ground...

And then Sunny did something a little strange.

My perfect dog stared up at the woman holding me, and Sunny actually began to growl. Sunny has never growled, ever, not even in play.

Dogs know good folks and bad folks.

And the woman gripping my arms was, apparently, very, very bad.

Sunny stared up at this woman, and my dog showed her teeth, her tiny, soft muzzle actually sharp for a change, her lips raised up and over her incisors, her eyes just as intense as she stared up at the woman holding me captive with blatant doggie hatred.

For the woman's part, she stared back down at my dog in disbelief, then gave a soft snort before glancing away. She had bigger problems at the moment...

Like the fact that someone was coming for her.

I heard a few more soft thuds, one after the other, and—even in the soft yellow glow from the streetlamp—I could see that the folks behind us were down, too, crumpled onto the ground...

“It's over,” growled a voice.

I knew that voice. That low, sultry voice...

Nova.

She stepped out of the shadows, cracking her neck to the side, rolling her shoulders back and standing strong, her feet apart and planted firmly on the pavement. She was currently wearing her suit, which...surprised me. Remember, it was three o'clock in the morning. But she'd also donned fingerless leather gloves that had holes dotting along the knuckles...

They were gloves you wear in a fight.

Nova had her head to the side, and her hair swept over her shoulder, shimmering in the incandescent light from the streetlamp. Nova stood, and she seemed perfectly relaxed, but there was a radiating tension along her frame, from her set jaw and her narrowed, flashing eyes.

Nova glanced to me, and though there was still tension in every line and angle of her, something flickered in her gaze, just for a heartbeat, a softness that rose.

It...startled me.

Nova was soft, when she looked at me just then.

But that changed quite quickly.

For Nova glanced from me, and then to the woman gripping me, and her expression changed.

Nova...smiled.

This wasn't a nice smile.

“If I'd known we were having company, I'd have prepared better,” said Nova, her tone level, almost playful as she stared at the woman holding me tightly. “You should really announce your arrival next time, Veronica, and I'll order a cake.”

The woman behind me, still gripping me tightly, her short nails sinking deeper and deeper into my skin, actually laughed at that last part. It was a low chuckle, and there was not a touch of humor to it.

There was, however, quite a lot of malice.

“Nova,” said the woman, giving a short nod. I could just see her chin beneath the overhang of her hood—there was quite a lot of chill to that single word.

“Veronica,” said Nova, crossing her arms before her and deepening her smile. “Don't you know you shouldn't steal what's been stolen?”

“So you've said before,” said Veronica slowly, levelly, “and yet I still did.”

This, apparently, meant something very important, for Nova's casual candor and playfulness evaporated at these words. She'd had her jaw tensed, that much was true, but the rest of her sort of oozed this indulgence and devil-may-care attitude. She'd seemed perfectly at ease, in conversation with this woman...

But when my kidnapper (well, my new kidnapper) spoke those words...

Nova's lips went up and over her teeth. From deep in her belly came a growl...and it wasn't just any growl.

This was the kind of growl that reached back through the millions of years it took for humans to become...well...human. And it brought out the terrified animal in me. The animal that once, a long time ago, hid from predators just like these.

It's the animal in us that fears wolves.

I stared at the werewolf in front of me, Nova. She was still standing like a normal person, her arms loose and limber at her sides, her feet spread hip-width apart so that she stood with a strength and power that was definitely supposed to make the woman gripping me feel a sense of uncertainty.

But when Nova stared at her, when she lifted her lip up and over her teeth, when she revealed those teeth, and they were pointed—much more pointed than they should be—and the growl emanated across the space between us...

The hair on the backs of my arms, the back of my neck, stood to attention. The adrenaline that had roared through my body, that had pulsed and pounded through every vein, that I had thought was spent...it came back, instantaneously and with a strength that made me breathless.

Nova's eyes were still bright blue, and that was easy enough to see, even in the dull light of the street lamp...

But now they possessed a ruthless sharpness as she stared at the woman.

In fact, all of Nova was sharp as she growled, as she curled her hands into fists, as she leaned forward, electricity pouring off her in palpable waves.

“Let. Her. Go.” The words were quiet, simple, the growl rolling beneath each syllable like a tide that would pull you out to sea.

That would drown you.

Nova was staring at the woman with her blue eyes that flashed with contained lightning...barely contained. But, after she'd growled the command, she spared a single instant to flick her gaze back to me again.

And, in that single instant, her eyes...they changed again.

When she looked to me, and—again—it was for the shortest amount of time possible, there was a flicker behind the intensity of those gorgeous, powerful blue eyes.

And, just like before, softness rose within them, unfurling like a night blooming flower—in the dark, and almost entirely unseen.

But I saw it.

My heart was in my throat, remember, through all of this. But when I locked eyes with Nova...

My heart softened, too.

For the first time since the morning, there was a bit of hope that opened inside of me.

Nova was here.

And she was going to keep me safe.

I'm not some fainting damsel in distress. I can hold my own. I'm not afraid of much. But the woman holding onto me so tightly...there was a danger about her that I felt on a bone-deep level.

She wanted to hurt me.

And as Nova stared at me, as she nodded her chin, almost imperceptibly, I knew...

Nova wasn't going to let her hurt me.

Nova was going to stop her.

There would be a time after this, surely, when I would be able to unpack all of the feelings this gave me, but I'll be succinct at the moment:

Nova, just then, right there, leaning toward us, her eyes full of power and fury...

She was intoxicating.

Breathtaking.

She took my breath, and she took it away.

My body, my heart, pulled toward this woman who—up until this morning—had been a perfect stranger to me. She'd taken me, yes, but she promised me that it was because she wanted to keep me safe.

And, here and now...I knew she meant it.

She would keep me safe at any cost.

I was undone by that realization.

But I didn't have time to be undone by it. Because the woman gripping me tightly pressed her fingernails deeper into me—I could feel the skin tearing beneath them, and I bit my lip to keep from crying out.

“No,” said the woman. Veronica. She growled this word, too, but there was a hint of laughter at the end of it. Cold, frightening laughter. “You know that you and I are evenly matched. You have too much collateral here. This girl needs to be kept alive by you, yes?” Her grin turned positively wicked. “I don't have those same restrictions.”

Nova took one step forward as I felt leather gloved fingers curl tightly around my throat. I gasped, my breathing constricted, those strong, gloved fingers tightening, tightening, as I stared at Nova, as I stood up on my tiptoes to try to lessen the grip of Veronica's hand...

She only tightened it further at the evidence of my discomfort, a low laugh echoing in my ears as my blood started to pound in my head, as darkness began to cloak the edges of my vision.

The sound I made was halfway between a choke and a gasp, then. I was trying my best to stay still, trying—through compliance—to get Veronica to lessen her grip on my throat, but she was having none of it.

Nova's eyes were wide, her mouth open, her hands up in surrender as she tried to bargain with Veronica—I could hear that they were talking to each other, but with the blood pounding in my head, I couldn't make out what they were saying.

Because I couldn't breathe...I couldn't intake air or breathe it out, and I gasped again, standing taller on my toes, reaching for breath as Veronica's fingers closed around my windpipe.

“I want you to squirm,” my captor whispered to me then, and I heard the delight in her voice. “I want you to suffer,” she snarled. “Your whole families gonna suffer.”

I cried out, or tried to, hardly making a sound...

But my dog, staying by Veronica's right foot and still growling as she stared up at both of us...I guess the croak I made was enough for her.

Sunny heard my gasp and sort of strangled murmur, and she just...well, she snapped.

Remember that Sunny is the nicest dog in the universe. She's never done anything but wag her tail and lick folks silly. She's got a heart of gold. She's good, through and through. She's never made a threat to save her life.

But this wasn't about saving her life.

It was about saving mine.

So Sunny darted forward, and she attached her mouth to the woman's leg. She sunk her teeth in, and apparently, this hurt, because the woman glanced down at Sunny, her grip on my neck lessening, ever so slightly.

It was now or never. There was a distraction, half a heartbeat of distraction.

And I took it.

I darted forward in a single lunge of movement.

It was enough.

I disentangled myself from Veronica's grip and I ran towards Nova, who stood only about ten feet away. The second I left the woman's grasp, Nova held her arms out to me, her face in a tight expression of control, a flicker of pain behind her bright blue eyes.

“Annie!” she cried out, and she raced toward me.

Nova had called me Annie.

But Sunny didn't let go of the woman's leg. Instead, she sunk her teeth seemingly deeper into the woman, her head twisted as the woman's strangled growl emanated from her throat.

I turned, mid-sprint, my chest heaving as I tried to breathe, as I tried to make out what was happening to Sunny. Nova's hands curled around my shoulders just as the woman, Veronica, lifted her hand, curled into a tight, powerful fist, against my dog.

She was going to bring it down onto Sunny. She was about to beat her.

Instinct is strong and powerful, instincts are the old programs that run in your brain that you don't consciously know, programs so ancient that some of them are millions of years old, much older than humanity itself.

One of the oldest bits of instinct in anyone, man or beast, I think, is the protectiveness you feel for those who are precious to you.

It flared up in me so strongly that even though Nova's fingers were curled around my shoulders with surprising power, I was out of her grasp in a heartbeat, out of her grasp and going right back the way I'd come.

Back toward Veronica.

Who wasn't going to touch my dog.

It was all happening so quickly, but so slowly, at the same time. I don't know how that's possible...but during crisis, sometimes it feels like time slows down, doesn't it? At least for me. Time, in that moment, slowed down all around me like a thickening of syrup.

I seemed to slow down, too, and this slowness was agonizing, as I saw the fury on Veronica's face then, for her hood had fallen back, revealing a woman who was beautiful, yes, all pretty and makeupped and perfect...but there was not a shred of beauty in her cruel eyes.

None at all.

For she stared down at my dog with rampant hatred and fury, her pretty, red lips up and over her teeth in a vicious snarl.

She looked so ugly in that moment, her hatred almost palpable in the air as she raised her first, lowering it toward my dog, the brute force behind her movement—she was very muscular beneath that coat—obvious and horrific.

I reached them. I grasped Sunny, plucking her out of thin air and turned. But I knew, knew, that Veronica's fist was going to come down on my back. I wasn't going to be able to get away in enough time.

I curled my body around Sunny, holding her tightly against my chest, my back and shoulders to Veronica, screwing up my face tightly, bracing, bracing, bracing for the brutal impact.

But it never came.

I blinked, opening my eyes, looking up, and there was Nova. She stood beside me, over me, and Veronica's fist and arm were locked against Nova's forearm.

Nova had absorbed the blow for me.

I stared up at her, breathless (literally—all of the breath had been choked out of me at that point), my mouth open, unable to make a sound. Over me, these two tall, powerful women were locked in a complete stalemate—Nova's body wasn't even shaking, but I could tell there was tremendous force behind Veronica's blow, tremendous force behind her arm that she pushed down now, her lips in a silent snarl as she locked eyes with Nova.

This was a powder keg about to explode.

“Are you all right, Annie?” Nova growled down at me, though she wasn't looking at me—she was staring deeply into Veronica's eyes, her own lips up and over her teeth. Both women snarled softly to each other as I rose to my feet then, moving away slowly, walking backwards, from the two women, locked in that unmoving battle.

I stared at them, panting. But, mostly, I stared at Nova.

Again, she'd called me Annie.

My name, on her tongue...well.

It was...beautiful.

Sunny chose that moment to snuggle a little harder against my heart, panting, too, whining up at me as if to say “we need to get the hell out of Dodge, mom.”

I took a deep breath, was able to croak out, around my tight throat: “yeah, I think so.”

Nova nodded, almost imperceptibly. “Go back to the house,” she told me then, each word pointed and strong, but with a little softness curled at the end of them.

I held Sunny to me, and I knew that I could just turn, and I could run down the street. I could get the hell out of Dodge, and I could leave all of this behind me.

I could leave.

I could escape.

But...could I?

Where did these people, this Veronica, come from? Why did they want me so badly?

Nova had saved me.

Nova...

I stared at her as she and Veronica took a step back from one another, voices low, snarling, growling, as they spoke to one another, hands curled into fists at their sides. Tension crackled between them, tension and power.

There was, very obviously, no love lost between these two.

And...they knew each other?

I took a deep breath. I didn't know what was going on, and I was angry that I didn't know.

But, at the very least, I knew one thing for sure.

Nova had just saved my life.

And she'd asked me to go back to the house.

And maybe, just maybe, there would be some answers to be uncovered there.

So I did a strange thing—a thing that went against what made sense, I know. But...what I was feeling, the strange draw I felt for Nova...it couldn't be explained, it didn't make sense...

And that was going to have to be okay for now.

I lifted my chin, held my dog close to my heart...

And I went through the front gates again, back toward the darkened mansion.

Chapter 6: Run!

By the time I'd reached the front door of that darkened house, the mansion wasn't exactly dark anymore. The closer I'd gotten to the sprawling house, the more I realized that there were a few scant lights on in the center of the building, and when I'd reached that front door, the chandelier in the foyer had turned on, light reflecting off of the minimalist crystal that hung, far above.

I tried the handle and the door opened away from my hand.

And there stood Halley, wrinkling her nose with a sigh as she glanced out at me.

“C'mon in,” she said, jerking her thumb over her shoulder and rocking back on her heels into her...enormous, fluffy white bunny slippers. Huh.

I'd carried Sunny all the way back to the house, and I continued to carry her through the front door. Only when it was shut behind me did I finally set my dog down onto the floor.

Sunny wagged her tail tiredly up at me, and then sat down at my feet, glancing from me to Halley expectantly (with only a scant glance at those fluffy bunny slippers, because Sunny is a Good Dog).

Halley looked like she'd just gotten up herself, and kept yawning into the back of her hand and blinking at me blearily. A glance at the big, ticking clock above the banister showed the time to be almost four.

In the morning, remember.

Halley was wearing a big, fluffy white robe to go with her fluffy white bunny slippers, and her hair was up in one big messy knot on the top of her head. She yawned again widely and shook her head, obviously trying to wake herself up a little more.

“So, who was it?” she asked me then, and I shrugged uncomfortably as she raised a brow. “Who took you,” she said slowly, and her voice was not unkind. She'd folded her arms in front of her, and she wrinkled her nose. “I smell a recognizable scent on you, but I don't quite remember who it belongs to. So I just wondered if it was—”

“I don't know. I mean, I'm not really sure. Nova called one of them Veronica?” I murmured, wrapping my arms tightly about myself. My bunny dress was seeming a bit inadequate against the chill of the night just now.

And, you know, the inherent discomfort of being kidnapped.

Again.

Halley saw me shiver a little and she sighed for a long moment before she slipped out of her robe and draped it around my shoulders, pulling it close in front with a soft grin, her head to the side as she gazed at me with affection. It was such a nice, unexpected, comforting gesture, one I truly appreciated...

But, beneath that robe, Halley was only wearing a pink piece of lingerie that some would call a “babydoll” and some would call “absolutely not fit to be glimpsed by polite company.”

I could clearly see Halley's generous breasts in their entirety beneath the sheer material, and they were lovely, and all, don't get me wrong, but they were also probably not something I should be seeing.

For her part, Halley had absolutely no problem showing them off as she grinned at me and winked when she saw my open mouth and wide eyes, and exactly where those eyes were pointed...

But she sobered up quickly as she considered what I'd just said.

“Veronica. Well. Shit.” Halley rocked back into her heels again, her face suddenly becoming clouded as she placed her hands on her curvy hips. “That sucks. That really sucks. We had a feeling it might be the Ares behind all this, but we were kind of hoping that it...well. That it wasn't.”

“The Ares,” I repeated, blinking. “Like...the zodiac sign?”

“No,” said Halley quickly, shaking her head. “They have nothing to do with anything like that. They're a fellow gang of werewolves, but...they're not like us. They're...really bad news. Like, super bad news...and now we know they're after you.”

I blinked at her.

After me?

What in the world?

Halley frowned at me then, her brow furrowing, and before I could ask her what was going on, she murmured: “Wait, you've never heard of them before? That's weird. Because Aman—”

“Halley.” The word was vicious, and cut through the air like a knife.

We both turned and followed the origin of that voice up to the middle of the stairs.

And there was Astrid, the leader of the pack. Though she’d probably just been woken, too, she showed absolutely no signs of it. Her halo of hair was perfect, her muscled limbs, visible through the artful slits in her purple satin robe, were also perfect. She exuded power—and not a little annoyance—as she prowled down the rest of the stairs and glanced from me to Halley with flashing eyes.

“What is the meaning of this? What the hell is going on?”

Halley cleared her throat, tried to explain to her that I’d been taken by the Ares…but that’s when Astrid snapped.

“Wait, so you're trying to tell me that the Ares came in here, into this house, to grab her? That’s not possible.” She narrowed her eyes and glanced at me shrewdly. “Unless...did you happen to leave, Ms. Annie?”

What would be the point of lying? I had a feeling she’d know I wasn't telling the truth, anyway. Astrid struck me as incredibly perceptive.

I nodded slowly. “Yeah. I...I left. Climbed out of my window.”

Halley and Astrid both stared at me.

I shifted on my feet uncomfortably. “I was walking across the lawn, and the folks who were trying to take me were close to the gate and the wall, pretty far from the house. So I don’t think they’d been here long.” I was babbling, so I stopped talking, took a deep breath. “There were several of them, and a woman named Veronica.”

Astrid’s mouth went into a thin, flat line, and she contemplated me for a long moment, her face betraying absolutely nothing as Halley glanced from me, back to Astrid with wide eyes, clearly uncomfortable at the glowering presence of her Alpha (I assumed this was Astrid’s role…having grown up with werewolves, this sort of person is hard to miss).

“You were going to leave,” said Astrid then, slowly, carefully.

I met her eyes.

I nodded.

She sighed for a long moment and reached up, pinching the bridge of her nose before turning to Halley. “We definitely know it was the Ares coming for her?”

“I scented them on her,” murmured Halley, glancing at the floor. “You can sniff her, too, if you like.”

Astrid did not take Halley up on that offer.

“All right, then. There's no help for it. We've got to take evasive action.” Astrid flicked her gaze to me before settling her eyes on the door. “Wait—where's Nova in all this? She was supposed to be watching her.”

Halley said nothing, glancing at me instead from beneath her lashes. She looked...worried.

I breathed out.

“Nova saved me from the Ares. Especially from Veronica,” I told Astrid. “So she's out there right now, in front of the gate. I...think she may be fighting Veronica.”

“You've got to be kidding me,” growled Astrid, and then she glared at Halley, pinning her in place. “Get out there and help her. Now.”

Halley gave a little grin in my direction before saluting her Alpha and turning on her heel. Still wearing the babydoll, she opened the door and strode outside in her enormous fluffy bunny slippers, her hips swaying.

It was an...interesting sight.

“As for you,” said Astrid, her brow still up, “do you understand that if Nova hadn't gotten to you in time, you might very well be dead right about now?”

It was an uncomfortable sentiment, made even more uncomfortable by the fact that she was glaring down at me like she wanted to kill me herself at the moment.

But I stared back.

“Maybe if I hadn't been kidnapped in the first place, I wouldn't have wanted to escape,” I told her, lifting my chin.

I wasn't afraid of her either.

Mostly.

Astrid sighed, then threw her hands into the air. “You ridiculous girl, you weren't kidnapped. Gang members of the Ares were watching you in the park this morning. They were about to take you just as Nova happened upon you. We've saved your life multiple times today, and this is the thanks we get?”

My heart was pounding in my throat, and I blinked before I shook my head slowly.

“But...that's not how this works...” I stammered. “I mean, thanks for saving my life...I guess.” I trailed off with a sigh, “I think I'd be a lot more cooperative if you could actually give me some details about anything. Right now, I've got to take your word for it that you're trying to keep me safe, but you haven't really given me any...” I trailed off again, blushing a little.

“Proof?” asked Astrid, her arms folded in front of her. “We've given you no proof? Really? What happened just now with Nova saving your life?”

I watched her carefully, and I said nothing.

Astrid's jaw clenched, and she was about to continue when the front door opened. And Halley and Nova prowled into the room like absolutely nothing unusual had been happening out there.

Nova stood easily just inside the doorway, but there was a small furrow on her brow, and until her eyes had raked over my entire body, she didn't fully relax. She glanced away, lifting her chin and trying to look callous and casual, but I'd already seen it...

She had to make sure I was all right.

There wasn't a hair out of place on Nova's head, and—for her part—Halley looked like she wore babydoll lingerie out of the house on a daily basis, she was so sure of herself as she shut the door and stood beside Nova easily, not at all self conscious.

“Yeah, so there was no real fight going on,” said Halley with a shrug. “There was lots of posturing, though.”

Nova raised a brow and gave a wicked little grin over her shoulder. “There damn well would have been a fight. But you showed up like that and diffused the situation.” She gestured to Halley's state of (un)dress, and chuckled a little, and Halley laughed along too for a heartbeat, until the two of them glanced to Astrid.

And that's when everyone fell silent.

Astrid's glare, settling on Nova, might have been able to incinerate the werewolf it was so powerful, so angry.

“Ms. Annie has informed me that she was able to escape out of her room.”

Nova's gaze flicked to me, but there wasn't an iota of change in her relaxed expression.

“Why weren't you with the girl?” Astrid asked, not blinking, her voice low, a growl.

“I was,” said Nova easily, then.

I glanced her way in surprise.

She was not. Nova had let me have the room to myself.

Astrid had, apparently, ordered her to stay with me. Had Nova given me privacy, and—through that kindness—almost lost me out the window?

You know what's strange? In that moment, I actually felt a little guilty for trying to escape. I know, I know, it was patently ridiculous. But that's how I felt. The pained expression that flickered across Nova's face filled me with a discomfort that was all consuming.

Astrid was going to say something else, her jaw clenching, but then she took a long, low breath, pinching the bridge of her nose and closing her eyes tight as she thought for a long moment.

“All right. You've left me no choice.” This was directed at me, and was particularly scathing. “We've got to move to evasive action,” is what Astrid said then. “Nova, you've got to get Annie out of here. Now.”

“Understood,” murmured Nova, her voice rough as she nodded to her leader, her head inclined in a (very slight) sign of submission. Her eyes flashed as she stared at the floor for a nanosecond, her jaw clenched, before turning away.

She did not look my way again.

“Wait, what?” I asked, glancing from Astrid to Nova. “What's happening?”

“We've been compromised,” explained Astrid shortly. “We're resorting to evasive action. You and Nova are going to go into hiding where there is not a single possibility of the Ares finding you.”

“But—” I began, though I didn't get farther than that single word. For Astrid turned toward me, and—when she did—I actually took a step back.

There was pure, chill rage radiating from her gaze.

“You are in danger, and it is our express mission to keep you safe. You are not safe currently, but we will keep you safe, and we will do whatever it takes to keep you safe. Do you understand?”

In fact, I did not. I didn't know why this was happening to me, and I was angry—so angry—that I was so damn powerless in all of this.

“No,” I told her truthfully, lifting my chin, holding her gaze. “I'm sick of this. I need to know what's happening to me.”

Astrid strode toward me, power building behind her, broiling, a rampant hurricane about to set loose on me. Her head was angled forward, her shoulders curling toward me like talons, and when she finally stood over me, every single instinct, molecule, atom of my being demanded that I step back, bow down before her.

The power radiating from her was far too much. Everything in me demanded submission to her Alpha.

I honestly don't know how I remained standing before her, my chin angled up.

I don't know how it was possible that I held her gaze.

Maybe my stubbornness is more intense than I thought. I don't know. All I know is that somehow, impossibly, I kept my eyes on her.

And I did not back down.

For the smallest amount of time that is measurable, something flickered behind Astrid's gaze.

I think it was surprise.

But she still towered over me, and as she stared down at me, her eyes narrowed.

“There's something much bigger than you at play right now,” she murmured to me, and her words were so soft that I wouldn't have heard them if I'd been a little further from her. Her breath was hot against me, her eyes dazzling with sharpness as she stared at me. “So you need to go with Nova, and you need to stay the fuck alive,” she snarled softly, her teeth becoming almost imperceptibly sharper. “Do you understand now? This is life and death for you. We're your chance at life. Unless you wanna choose death, you'd better cooperate.”

I said nothing.

But that much?

Yeah. I guess I could understand that.

For now.

I broke my gaze from Astrid, and that's when she nodded. “Get going, Nova,” she growled. “Now.”

Nova stepped forward, curling her fingers about my wrist and drawing me backward to her. It was such a surprising action—and so startlingly gentle—that I flicked my gaze to her. She still had her face purposefully directed away from me as Astrid turned and began to ascend the stairs, but when Astrid had completely gone, that's when Nova turned to me, too.

Her expression was unreadable as she gazed down at me, and we were so damn close to each other, the heat radiating out of Nova into me. Nova leaned down to me, leaning her face forward so that her hair cascaded off of her shoulder and down to me, bringing an intoxicating hint of her cologne with it.

When we were almost nose to nose, I could see it, reflected in her eyes. It surprised me, made me breathless as I stared up at her.

There was pain unfurling from deep inside of her.

A powerful pain.

“You almost got killed tonight,” Nova growled softly, breath hot against my skin as she searched my face, her brow furrowed. “Do you understand that? Killed, Annie.”

I blinked. And, before I could think about what I was saying...I said it.

“You called me Annie.”

Surprise sped over her face, and Nova stood, so very close to me, staring down at me, her expression softening by a single degree.

But it was enough.

“You've been calling me 'Bunny.'” I murmured, by way of explanation. I suddenly felt uncomfortable so close to her, not because of Nova, but because of what I wanted to do with Nova.

She had just saved my life. And the adrenaline of running for my life, of escaping...it was all catching up with me now. There were folks out there who wanted to kill me, and I didn't just have that on Astrid's word.

I'd seen it with my own eyes. Felt it with my own skin, felt Veronica's fingers curving, tightening around my neck.

And then, Nova had come.

And Nova had saved me.

It'd been a long day and a very long night. I was exhausted, frazzled, strung out and almost numb from everything that had happened to me. I could no longer think.

I could only feel.

And what I felt then, roaring through me, rising in me like a reckoning was attraction.

I was drawn to her, she was drawn to me—in the entryway of the big, cold house, we were pulled to each other until there was not a bit of space between us.

Nova was wearing a tie, black satin that shone in the twinkling crystal light of the chandelier. I lifted my hand, felt my fingertips press against the softness of her dress shirt, and the firmness of her stomach, the warmth and heat of it, radiating through the thin fabric, into my skin.

Nova stared down at me as my fingers traced up, up, as I grasped her tie.

And that's how we stood for a long moment, the both of us breathing hard as we leaned toward each other. Nova was almost panting as she stared down into my eyes, her own wide, as if she wouldn't have believed that I'd do such a thing as step forward, nose to nose with her and grasp her tie.

I was in too deep now, and I knew it—and she must know it, too.

“You...you know my name,” is what I told her. I whispered the words to her, soft and quiet, as I stared up at her.

Because I saw something in her eyes.

I saw it, and I felt it, too, my stomach tightening.

Desire.

There was desire in her expression as she stared down at me.

“Of course I know your name,” she growled to me.

But her words were weightier than what she'd just told me.

Her words felt heavy. Important.

Of course I know your name.

Of course.

We stood, my palms sweating against her tie. We were almost nose to nose, the tips of my shoes certainly pressing against her right foot. Her thumbs were hooked in her belt loops now, but I felt the memory of the heat of her palm against my arm. I licked my lips, my chin tilted up toward her.

We could kiss.

It would cost nothing to complete the pull toward each other.

We could kiss.

Nova reached up. She curled her warm fingers around my elbows, and my breath hitched in my throat. It was going to happen, I was going to feel her hot mouth against my own, feel her softness, drink her in...

But Nova, her hands firm against my elbows, took a step back and gently—so gently—pushed me away from her by a step, too.

Pain flickered across Nova's face, quickly and then disappearing. But I'd seen it.

It was there.

I let go of her tie, stepped backward. It was the only thing I could think to do, but the second I did it, I felt regret seep through me by degrees.

“We've got to get going,” Nova's rumbled words moved through me. “I must...I have to keep you safe.” Her eyes glinted, her jaw clenched. “I will keep you safe.”

She turned, and she was stalking toward a corridor, leaving me standing there.

With the absence of Nova's heat, all I felt was cold.

Chapter 7: Sanctuary!

“Where are we headed?”

Nova cast me a sidelong glance, and in the lights of the dashboard, I could make out the ripple of the muscle of her jaw. She took a deep breath, the knuckles on her right hand whitening as she turned the wheel to merge onto highway 376.

“Someplace safe,” is how she answered me then.

From the back seat, Sunny whined unhappily. We were currently in what I assumed was Nova's car. It was something sporty (I'm pretty terrible with car knowledge, so that's about as well as I can describe it) and black, and I was actually surprised that it even had a backseat. The seat itself was so small that Sunny hardly fit there. She was currently lying smooshed on the upholstery, wagging her tail unhappily at me—but still hopeful, because Sunny is always hopeful.

Sunny sat next to our two suitcases. Halley had let me borrow a few outfits and shoes (since I didn't have anything with me—what with being kidnapped and all—I'd had to borrow clothes from the only member of the Dogstar I was close to in size. We were pretty close, and actually the same size in shoes, so it worked out pretty well), and Nova had packed a suitcase, too. A big one.

We possessed enough luggage for what appeared to be a long trip.

“It's just...'somewhere safe' doesn't tell me much of anything,” I argued with her then.

Nova chuckled at that, the sound of her laughter low and cheerful, though when I glanced sidelong at her face, her expression did not reflect this cheeriness.

“But that's the point,” she told me with a simple shrug. “The less you know about all of this, the better.”

“I'm not sure that's entirely true.”

I thought Nova was going to say something antagonizing, or—at the very least—combatant. For half a minute, it appeared she struggled with this, frustration flitting across her face, before she replaced it with a smooth mask of indifference.

“My one task,” she said, and even that was smooth, too, as the words rolled off her tongue, “is to keep you safe. I hope you understand that.”

I stared out of the windshield, taking a deep breath.

“It's very difficult,” I told her, my voice nice and even, “to understand what's going on. You've kidnapped me. You're saying you need to keep me safe, and...and, I mean, I appreciate you getting me away from that woman...but...”

Nova glanced at me sidelong just then, her eyes glittering in the dark. “Why does there have to be a 'but?' Can't the fact that I saved you be enough?”

I watched her for a long moment, the car's engine rumbling like a distant purr, the city lights flashing by my window.

Her profile, built of shadows and those flickering city lights, was strong in the dark, her jaw clenched, her brow furrowed, her eyes narrowed and pointed at the road ahead of us, strong enough with their intense blue to tear apart the pavement.

So much of Nova was intense, an intensity that left you breathless. She was a force of nature, a power all to herself.

Sometimes, she was impossible to read. And sometimes, I could read her like a book, my fingers tracing over each beautiful word like my skin alone could tease their meaning from the page. In those moments, I understood her only too well.

And, in those moments, I reflected what she felt. I felt the same, then.

And that was unnerving.

Nova cast me a sidelong glance, one brow raised, the glow of the dashboard lights setting off the sharp angles of her face, the softness of her mouth, the glittering of her eyes... I knew I was blushing, but I also knew it wasn't bright enough in the car for her to see that.

Thank heaven for small favors.

“I gave you your space,” she told me simply. “I was tasked to stay in the room with you, but I wanted you to feel comfortable. And you left.” Nova took a deep breath. “I don't understand why you left,” she murmured then, her voice almost too soft to hear.

I blinked, felt the blush deepen to a complete reddening of my face, my blood pounding in my ears.

“You...” I didn't know what to say, took a deep breath, tried again, spluttering. “Nova, you...you kidnapped me. Are you forgetting that?”

“That's not what that was,” she groaned in frustration, and she reached up, her fingers yanking back through her hair, over her head. “You don't understand.”

“Right.” I lifted my chin up. “So why don't you enlighten me?”

“This is all for your own good.” Exasperation was now leaking through into her words. “Please trust me.”

“I don't have any reason to,” I told her.

When she looked at me sidelong now, her eyes were as chill as ice.

“If I wanted you dead, you'd already be cold,” she murmured to me, voice long and low, with a bit of growl to it.

I didn't miss a beat. “See, that's not exactly engendering of trust either,” I shot back. “Am I supposed to be scared of the big, bad wolf?”

“No,” she answered immediately. “I don't want you to be.”

I paused for a moment, looking at her in the low light.

She seemed sincere, her eyes softening.

“I already told you I wasn't,” I murmured. “I'm not afraid of you.”

“Well.” Her mouth twitched at the corners like she was trying to suppress a smile. She pursed her lips, lowered her chin and glanced through her lashes at the road. “I'm glad we got that sorted.”

“Right,” I answered, glancing at her in wonder as she accelerated.

Nova was leaning back easily in her seat with a languidness that belied the underlying power, rippling just beneath her skin. Her shoulders were slack, easy, her one hand on the steering wheel, moving the car that roared beneath us and around us. She tilted her head a little toward me, and with her full mouth trying to keep from smiling, her eyes flashing behind her thick, masculine frames...

My heart rose into my throat. My heart considered skipping a beat or two for a long moment...

And then it did.

My heart deliberately skipped a beat.

Attraction does strange things to your body. It steals microseconds of time from you, skipped heartbeats you'll never get back. It steals your breath.

It stole mine, in that moment.

She stole it.

What was it about her? She had power and she showed it off deliberately. That's what werewolves do, and I know wolves...I've seen this before.

And other wolves haven't done this to me.

Only her.

I needed to unravel the “why” of why she did this to me.

Nova was attractive, obviously. But you can be as attractive as a perfect work of art and still be soulless. Attraction only gets you so far in this world. Attraction only works for so long, and if you haven't got heart, if you haven't got an enormous heart, a wild spirit, it's meaningless.

But Nova...

Nova cast me a sidelong glance just then and the smile she was fighting against won out, her mouth curving up at the corners, her eyes narrowing with a sparkle that teased at the edges of it. “Yes?” she asked, voice low.

I turned quickly, staring straight ahead out of the windshield, my cheeks reddening. “Nothing.”

“Ah. You looked like you wanted to ask me something.”

I grappled. I floundered.

I said: “who are you? Really?”

There was silence in the car for a long moment. I continued to stare out the windshield at the winking lights of the Pittsburgh skyline, so many different colors, an iridescent rainbow out of order.

I was so flustered by this day. This damn day.

This damn woman.

For a long moment, I searched for something else to fill the silence with, because it was too awkward, after what I'd just asked. Nova, driving beside me, seemed to be thinking hard about something, and I hoped she was also thinking about a change of subject, something new to talk about, something not so...deep.

“I don't know,” is what she finally answered, and I gazed sidelong at her, speechless, realizing she was actually answering my question. “I mean, who am I? I'm...well, I'm muscle for hire. I'm good at what I do. I found the Dogstar, and I fell in with them.” She stared ahead, and she didn't look at me. She wouldn't, her jaw tightening. “We're better than most folks think we are. We're not...we're not killers. We've killed make no mistake, and I don't know if you'll believe me, but we've only killed really awful folks. Astrid would never ask something of us that went against our moral compass. She'd never ask us to hurt someone who didn't really deserve it.”

“Moral compass,” I repeated quietly.

“Does that surprise you? Coming out of my mouth?” Nova did glance at me sidelong, then, and the pain reflected in her eyes made me breathless.

There was pain there. Such deep pain.

“I...” I couldn't hold her gaze—it hurt too much. Instead, I stared down at my hands, clasped and clenched together in my lap. “I don't know what to say. This morning, I didn't know you, and then you just appeared, and I...I know it's stupid, but I was totally convinced that my sister had set you up with me.”

I thought Nova was going to chuckle at that, because I'd certainly added a chuckle at the end of it to keep it light.

But she said nothing.

She kept staring ahead. Kept turning the wheel gently, her jaw tight.

Nova stayed silent.

“And now...now I'm involved in all of...all of this, and I don't know why, and that's really tough for me. I'm worried. I'm worried that there's something going on that I have no control over, and...I mean, then there's you. And I don't know what to think about you, Nova.”

Nova stayed silent.

She stayed silent for a long moment.

Until she said: “okay. It's okay not to know what you think. But what do you feel?”

That took me by surprise, but then pretty much everything Nova did took me by surprise...

To be truthful: everything Nova did took my breath away.

I stared at her, emotion surging through me. Strong, powerful, potent emotion. I was overwhelmed by it.

And I was exhausted, remember...so exhausted. I'd just had the longest day of my life.

I was too overwhelmed by my feelings, and so I didn't say anything.

I stayed silent.

Whatever was spinning around us, the gossamer strands of something bigger and better, my silence did something to it. And I felt it. I felt the whole thing, whatever “this” was, spinning apart.

The moment had come and gone.

We drove the rest of the way in silence.

When Nova navigated off the highway into the deeper sections of Pittsburgh, I was a little surprised. These were the run down sections of dilapidated buildings that should have been condemned a long time ago...and probably were, but nothing had been done about them.

My heart hurt as we drove the narrow streets, pulling Pennsylvania stops at all of the stop signs (if you're not from Pennsylvania, then you might actually know how to treat a stop sign. We...uh...don't. I never met a stop sign I didn't roll slowly through).

There didn't seem to be people living here, which was good...all of the broken buildings simply stood, husks and memories of an era when steel was king and industry was queen in this once great city. Now, Pittsburgh has moved on from its steel and coal past...

But the buildings remembered.

When we pulled up in front of an old church, it was so out of place in this neighborhood that I glanced up at the building with wonder. It looked like it was reminiscent of a Roman Catholic cathedral from a previous century. The enormous building was covered entirely with stained glass windows (the ones that hadn't been shot out or had rocks thrown through them) and columns, statues and complicated patterns carved in the sparkling granite. The stained glass windows in particular were what caught my attention, a riot of color that seemed so rich and out of place in the dark...

I blinked.

The only way I was able to make out the stained glass windows in all their glory was because of the light shining from within the church.

That was...strange.

The neighborhood had seemed so abandoned...

Nova turned the car down a narrow alleyway that wedged its way between the church and a large brick building. We moved through the close darkness until the alleyway ended, and there—fenced in on all sides by buildings and the church itself—was a small parking lot.

It was full of cars.

Nova pulled into the only parking space available, the one next to a big, rusty dumpster, and put the car into park, taking the keys out of the ignition and weighing them in her palm like she was considering how much they were worth. She stared silently out of the windshield, her jaw tense and hard as I glanced sidelong at her, waiting for her to say something.

“We're here,” she murmured then, voice low, gruff.

She didn't look at me when she said it.

I folded out of the car and stood on the broken pavement and stones gazing up at the windows in the back of the church. They, too, were stained glass, and they, too, were illuminated from within.

Nova took the luggage out of the back seat, and Sunny hopped down when I scooped up her leash, pulling it over my wrist as I looked up at the building.

It appeared that this was our final destination.

Nova walked ahead of me, her shoulders sloped as she carried the two suitcases easily, her long hair shimmering in the soft light of the illuminated windows, almost as if there were golden strands woven through her brunette mane. The cut of her suit jacket showed the lines and curves of the muscles of her shoulders, her arms, and it was extremely difficult not to allow my eyes to travel the path of her back, down to the actual miracle of her ass (I was standing next to a church—you're gonna have to forgive my use of metaphor this one time).

But she didn't look back at me.

I tore my eyes away from her and looked up at the church instead, looked up at the scenes depicted in stained glass. There was Jesus holding a little lamb, Jesus seated, surrounded by adoring followers. There was Jesus walking on water in a stormy sea, a man reaching out from a boat toward him, Jesus' arms outstretched, too, as if he wanted to embrace this fisherman.

These were all pretty standard pictures that had been depicted in stained glass over the ages, stories from the Bible, parables, popular passages that so moved the stained glass cutters and metalworkers that they recreated the scenes in tiny fragments of glittering glass and tin.

They were art created from stories, and they were objectively beautiful.

But as we moved through the parking lot, up to the ornate wooden door, heavily battered by years of storms and the passage of time, there was a small stained glass window beside the door that caught my attention. The window was about the height of my head and went down to the height of my waist, so it really was pretty small in comparison to the other enormous works of stained glass art higher up in the church building.

This one, for whatever reason...well, it didn't look as old as those other stained glass windows. Maybe because there were colors in this small window that the others above us didn't contain. Maybe because it was so intricate, far more intricate than the larger windows, and those artists had had a lot of space to work with.

As we stood before the door, as Nova lifted her hand and knocked a quiet, complicated pattern onto the wood, I stared at that small window, my mouth open.

The window had a golden goblet in the center of it. Normal, right? Golden goblets are kind of important to Catholic folks because that's what's used for the Eucharist.

But flowing out of the goblet...

Well.

It was blood.

A brilliant, jeweled red traveled out of the goblet's mouth and down two sides of the golden cup. The blood flowed in a very pretty, almost art nouveau styled ribbon to the bottom of the window.

Maybe that would have been okay. I mean, I don't know—I'm familiar with Catholic art just because I've been to a lot of weddings in Catholic churches—I know my stained glass. I've seen blood flowing out of cups. Something having to do with the blood of Christ, I think—I'm not too familiar with the details of the stories themselves.

But at the bottom of the window, gathered along the banks of the ruby red rivers that were now moving through a countryside of bright and brilliant glass...

Were people.

People knelt along the banks of the blood river, their hands scooping into the blood, bringing it to their lips.

And they drank it down.

The door to the church opened, light spilling out from the hallway within to the darkness of the parking lot where we stood. We'd just been driving through a lot of darkness, and my eyes weren't adjusted to that light at all, so it took me a moment to peer into the church and really see who'd answered Nova's knock.

For a moment, just a heartbeat, really, I didn't see anyone standing there at all. Which was strange...someone had opened the door, hadn't they?

And then, as if a television picture finally came into focus...

There she was.

She leaned against the door, her hip curving against the wood effortlessly as she cocked her head at us, an instantaneous wide and charming smile crossing over her face in a heartbeat. She was a bit shorter than Nova, but still taller than me by just a little. She had long, black hair that she wore up in a messy knot at the base of her head, the hair glittering in the soft light with a blue cast to it, the shiny strands reflecting the light with a coolness. That's what I first noticed about her...and the fact that she was wearing all black, a black button up shirt with long sleeves, black slacks, black shoes...

And a white collar at her neck.

Like...a priest's collar.

Her face was nice, but it was her smile you wouldn't be able to forget.

If she was expressionless, she had the kind of face that was easy to fold into a crowd, someone you would never be able to remember for a police line up or a sketch artist. If someone was drawing her in caricature, I'm not really sure what they'd see to over exaggerate. Her mouth was regular, her lips were regular, her eyes were regular...everything about her was regular, save for her hair.

And her smile.

When she smiled, she put everything she possessed into that action. When she smiled, your entire body wanted to respond to it, you wanted to smile too, and it's almost as if you had to, that happiness bubbling up inside of you so intensely and suddenly that you had to smile or risk explosion.

This woman grinned at Nova, her smile growing wider until her eyes were almost hidden from view, but when she glanced sidelong at me, impossibly, her smile deepened.

“I've...I've missed you, you big puppy,” she said to Nova, her head to the side, her voice as soft and warm as her expression. Her voice actually cracked on those words, so thick was it emotion, but she cleared her throat, kept going: “what brings you to my neck of the woods?”

“Trouble,” said Nova, her tone low, urgent. “Please...can we come in? I don't want us to be spotted. I'm worried we might have been watched.”

The woman's expression of joy vanished, and she glanced over Nova's shoulder into the parking lot. “I'll make sure you weren't,” she murmured then, and held her hand out to me, curling an arm about my shoulders. “Come in and welcome, my friends,” she said, and she enclosed me into an embrace as Nova entered the hallway and shut the door behind her.

I realized, as this woman folded me into her arms, that she smelled of heavy incense...the kind you'd find in a Catholic church for a very expensive wedding.

And...something else.

Something metallic, beneath the heaviness of frankincense and myrrh.

“So, I'm welcome here?” asked Nova, rocking back onto her heels and setting the suitcases down onto the hallway floor again. Her head was to the side, and the words were slightly joking, but her expression wasn't as she glanced at the woman with soft eyes.

“You're always welcome, pup,” said the woman, backing up from me, but she wasn't looking at Nova.

She was looking at me.

Her fingers were curled around my shoulders softly as she held me out at arm's length to examine me. “Are you hurt?” she asked me, voice just as soft as her hands.

“No,” I told her in wonder.

Who the hell was she? She was so damn nice. She was...

“Annie,” said Nova, nodding to the stranger, “this is Priest Jax. Jax, this is Annie. I...” She ran a hand through her hair almost as if she was uncertain.

I'd only known Nova for a short time, it's true...

But she didn't strike me as the type of woman who was ever uncertain about anything.

“Jax, I'm sorry... This is just honestly the only place I could think to go,” said Nova then, searching Jax's face. “With her.”

They both glanced at me at that moment, and I stood straight and as tall as I was able, lifting my chin up.

Nova seemed worried.

Jax looked...unsure.

Nova leaned forward a little, her voice low, urgent. “This was the only place where I knew she'd be perfectly safe.”

“Of course,” said Jax, almost distractedly as she considered me. She nodded once, twice, shortly then. “Let's get you two inside. Once you're settled, I'll make certain you weren't followed. It will be all right, pup,” said Jax gently, her head to the side as she glanced up at Nova.

Nova didn't say anything.

She only looked to me.

Her eyes were soft, softer than I'd seen them yet.

And, within their bright blue depths...

There was a flash of sadness so deep it made me breathless.

Chapter 8: Ex!

“So, you're...uh, a priest? I've never heard of a woman being a priest before.”

It wasn't the most articulate thing I'd ever uttered, but I was just so damn curious.

We were currently walking in the basement of the church. We'd gone down some stone steps and entered through another old, wooden door, and here we were. It reminded me of the basements in other Catholic churches I'd been to: lots of florescent lights, the floor covered in carpeting from the seventies, a sort of ugly orange color that had been badly stained over the years covering the floor. There were pictures of Jesus and saints and Mary and other Bible stuff along the walls (I sure do know my stuff)...

But there were a few other things that looked out of place among the other churchy bits. There were folding tables along the walls and folding chairs stacked beside them.

And on the tables were a few styrofoam bowls that, I'd swear, had been stained red.

Maybe there had just been a painting party here...

Jax glanced sidelong at Nova, who walked beside her, hands deep in her suit pockets and staring straight ahead. Nova had left the suitcases at the foot of the stairs.

“You didn't tell her?” asked Jax mildly.

“I didn't think it was as important as getting her to safety,” responded Nova, just as mildly.

Jax sighed for a long moment, pinching the bridge of her nose. “All right, well, we'd better get it out in the open, then, in case she panics.”

My heart rate chose that moment to increase dramatically.

“Uh...what?” I asked, my voice a little high. Hopefully no one noticed.

They, unfortunately, both noticed as they cast me sidelong, sympathetic glances.

“Well, the thing is,” said Jax, turning on her heel and giving me a soft, almost apologetic smile, “they normally don't allow female priests...especially in the Catholic church. But Sanguis Ecclesia, this place,” she said, patting the basement wall, “is not a Catholic church.”

“Oh?”

Jax put her head to the side and spread her hands. “We're a vampire church.”

I wrinkled my nose and sighed. “Oh, okay. I...see.”

Jax blinked.

There was a beat of silence...

And then she blinked again. “That's not, uh...frightening to you?”

“I...I grew up in a werewolf family. I may not be one,” I said, reaching up and placing my hand over my heart, “but I was adopted by werewolves, so...I've met vampires before.”

I think Jax wanted my reaction to be just slightly more amazed...but it was the truth.

And, my goodness, I'd had a very long day.

Granted, I'd never heard that vampires had their own church...and, I'm assuming, their own religion.

But, after all, religions have been formed around much stranger things.

(I'm looking at you, Flying Spaghetti Monster.)

“Well, that was easy, then,” said Jax, her smile deepening. “Welcome to Sanguis Ecclesia, then, Annie. While you're here, partaking in our sanctuary, it is my deepest promise that we will do our utmost to keep you safe.”

“That's...that's so nice,” I said, and I meant it. “But...why? I'm just a stranger to you. You don't have to help me.”

“Your...friend and I have a bit of history,” said Jax, reaching out and placing her hand on Nova's shoulders. Nova stiffened beneath that touch, but said nothing. “But, even if we didn't, even if Nova hadn't shown up, asking for help, we would have helped you.”

I stared at her, perplexed, and I could only repeat my question: “But...why?”

“Because everyone should do their best to be kind, always,” said Jax with a shake of her head. “No one knows what anyone else is going through, what their story is. I believe, deeply, that most of us are trying the best we can to get through this life. And that we should extend the same sympathy to a stranger that we would give to someone we love with all our heart. So I must help you, Ms. Annie. And I will try my best to do so.”

A smile grew on my face and, in that moment, I felt overwhelmed by her kindness.

And tired. I was so tired.

“She looks like she's dead on her feet, pup—what did you do to her?” asked Jax then, casting a sidelong glance in Nova's direction. Nova shrugged, and—for her part—she looked as tired as I felt just then.

“We've had...a long day,” said Nova, rolling her shoulders and sighing. “If it's not too much trouble, Jax—”

“Say no more,” said Jax, lifting a hand that bore twinkling cobalt blue nail polish. “Follow me.”

We walked through stone hallways and up a set of carpeted steps and then we were shown into a short hallway with three doors that led off of it.

“The old parson's study,” said Jax, opening the door on the right and holding it open for the both of us. “Makes a great guest room. If you don't mind ghosts.” She winked at me.

I was so tired that I actually laughed at that. “I don't believe in ghosts,” I told her as Nova strode into the room, glancing about.

Jax reached out and patted me on the shoulder. “Well, believe it or not, there are folks who don't believe in werewolves and vampires, and yet they still exist,” she said with a wry wink. “Get a good night's sleep, you two—I'll come get you in the morning, and we can talk then.” She was about to shut the door, but Nova reached out and curled her fingers about the wood, biting her lip.

“Ah, Jax...there's just one bed?” she murmured quietly.

Jax's brows shot up, and she glanced from me, back to Nova again. “Ah, I thought you two were, um...together, and—”

“No,” we both said at the exact same time, in different emphatic tones.

Jax blinked and stared back and forth between us, then nodded simply.

“I'll get you a sleeping bag,” she said to Nova with a brow raised, and Nova nodded, and then the door was shut, and Nova and I were alone for a long, uncomfortable moment.

It was uncomfortable for me, at any rate. For her part, Nova didn't look too embarrassed about what had just transpired, as she leaned against the wall beside the door, folding her arms before her.

“Will this work?” she asked then, gesturing around the small but cozy room.

“Yeah, uh...thanks. I think,” I managed. I sat down on the edge of the bed, covered with a well-washed and mended blue quilt...it was shabby and lovely, and I ran my fingers over the edge of it as I tried to think. “Is there any way you can tell me what's going on?” I asked her then, my voice low, pitched to only carry in this room...not that I thought Jax might be listening, but I was flustered and nervous after a day of being kidnapped.

Understandably.

Nova studied me for a long moment before rocking back onto her heels with a sigh. “It's...complicated. And I've been forbidden to tell you much of anything.”

“Forbidden?” I quipped, but her grave face told me she was perfectly serious.

“Well...what can you tell me?” I asked her then with a sigh myself. “Because...if there's anything you can tell me, it's better than nothing.”

Nova gazed steadily out of the dark window for a long moment before crossing the space between her and the wall. She tugged on the edges of the filmy curtains until they were drawn over the glass, and then she sighed again, her flashing eyes tracing up and down the curtains and glaring at them as if they were what was wrong with the world. “I'm going to have to ask Jax to get something a bit more substantial here, if she has it.”

“You're worried about curtains?” I asked her quietly.

“I'm not worried about curtains,” she muttered, and her voice was terse. “I'm worried about what's out there beyond the curtains.” Her fingers gripped the hems of the filmy fabric, curling tightly about them as her jaw tensed. “What's out there in the dark.”

I sat still for a moment before I stood, before I walked over to Nova and—shoulder to shoulder—stared out into the blackness of the night through the gauzy curtains with her. I could make out the bright lights of Pittsburgh, could make out the darkness of the abandoned buildings on the block, the street lights guttering or completely out, the glass broken from rocks and, perhaps, bullets.

I bumped my shoulder against hers. “I've been thinking,” I murmured to her. “Am I...am I in trouble? Are you going to turn me over to someone...?” I trailed off, because all of my theories were only half-baked at this point, and I was uncertain about a lot of things.

But what was really strange was this:

I wasn't uncertain of her.

When she said she wanted to keep me safe...

I believed her.

I don't know why I did completely. She'd saved me from that woman, yes, but she'd also kidnapped me...maybe. But she swore she hadn't, she swore she was keeping me safe...

Maybe it was her sincerity, the way she said the words, with an emphatic strength like she needed me to know she was telling the truth.

Nova was a lot of things...but she didn't strike me as a liar.

“No,” she murmured then, answering my question. She glanced sidelong at me, and there was such conviction in her voice. Such strength. “I'm here to keep you safe. You're going to be taken over my own dead body,” she growled, her eyes flashing with an eerie light. It was her wolf rising within her. I knew that look.

I reached out, and I placed my hand on her forearm.

It was an instinctual gesture, one I did to those I was close to, not virtual strangers. It was a softening gesture, a soothing one. It said “please don't worry,” or: “I'm here for you.”

She'd taken off her suit jacket when she entered the room, tossing it onto the bed, and she stood in her button down shirt, her sleeves rolled up to her elbows as if she was too hot in it. I touched her bare skin with my fingertips, then, and she did feel excessively warm...but that's a werewolf thing, right? I was prepared for that.

But I wasn't prepared for how soft she felt beneath my fingertips, her skin like satin, like silk, like a million other cliches of things you touch and revel in.

But it was a hell of a lot more sensuous than that.

Have you ever pressed your fingertips to the belly of a woman? The softness of the skin there reminds you that you've felt few things more lovely than that. Kisses are soft, are sweet. A mouth, lips against yours...that's a velvet softness. Softer, still, is the slick sweetness of a center beneath your tongue.

I've felt softness, yes.

But I hadn't felt her.

A blush rose into my cheeks, because I did think of wetness, I thought of mouths and tongues. I thought of beasts and a primal urge that builds within us so powerfully that it's almost impossible to overcome. You must move with it or be consumed by it, incinerated by it until nothing but ash remains.

I took my hand back as if Nova had burned me.

And perhaps she had.

For her part, Nova stared down at me with narrowed eyes, breathing steadily, as if she hadn't felt...whatever that was...between us. God, maybe it was just me. Maybe.

But I felt an undeniable attraction for Nova.

She pulled me toward her inextricably.

I took a deep breath and let it out shakily. “Uh...” I took a step back, bit my lip, tried to act natural.

Failed.

“What else can you tell me?” I asked her then, and my tone was, perhaps, a little more plaintive than it needed to be, but I was trying to make up for what had just happened.

Nova cleared her throat, ran her fingers back through her hair, remaining silent for half a heartbeat, as if she was trying to find the right words.

She was quiet for a longer moment, still, gazing ahead moodily.

A blush rose in my cheeks. I wondered what she might say.

Nova found her voice, then, spread her hands, shook her head. “You must know that I have your best interests in mind and that I must keep you safe. There's nothing else besides that that I can tell you.”

“That's not enough,” I persisted. “You...you kidnapped me.”

“'Kidnapped' is such a strong word,” said Nova, her head to the side, a brow raised, a small smile playing at the corners of her pretty mouth. “I much prefer 'saved.'”

“Saved me? Astrid said something about how the Ares was there in the park this morning...but...why are they after me?” I stared at her, perplexed, trying to downplay what that confident smile of hers was doing to my insides (turning them to jelly) and...well, other things.

Nova stared down at me, her eyes narrowed again. She shook her head, and this time, there was a firmness to her tone. “I can't tell you anymore than Astrid did, I'm sorry—I've already said more than I should. I have to keep you safe, that's my number one priority. Nothing else matters.”

That surprised me. And there was surprise in my voice as I repeated: “Nothing else?”

I watched her. Time passed as our gazes locked.

“Nothing else,” she whispered then, her eyes flashing with a feral light, “nothing else but you.”

I realized I was breathless and that I had to gasp for air in that moment, and I ended up coughing a little as Sunny jumped up on the bed, and—in the background of this very tense moment—jumped a little on the pillows with her front paws to soften them. Normally I would be cooing with delight at my incredibly adorable dog. But, right just then, I didn't even pay any attention to her.

My entire being was drawn to Nova.

All of me was turned toward her.

“I don't...” I licked my lips. “I don't know what to say.”

Nova thought for a long moment. There was tenderness in her gaze, I know there was.

I saw it.

But, for half a moment, there was an internal battle that took place within Nova. I wasn't privy to it, and I wouldn't have even known it was happening had I not been so intent on her eyes...

But, after another, longer moment, Nova straightened, a mask of indifference descending over her face. She flexed her shoulders and then rolled them in an indolent shrug.

“There's nothing to say.” She gave me a callous smile. “This is my job, and I take my job very seriously.”

“Oh.” I shut my mouth and then I opened it. “Your job.”

But...

I'm not sure exactly how I knew...but I knew that wasn't what she'd been going to say.

It had, of course, been a very long day, and a very long night at this point. I was almost delirious with exhaustion.

But there'd been something there between us. Something bright and sparking.

There was something that stretched between us.

And I didn't understand it...not yet.

But I was working on it.

Nova rolled the sleeves of her shirt down over her forearms again and began to button the cuffs at her wrists, her fingers moving swiftly as she shook her head again. “We were paid a small fortune to make certain that you remain alive, intact...whole,” she said, her words clipped, her voice suddenly cold as she turned away from me. “That money is essential to the Dogstar, and I am now in charge of keeping you safe...everything that I am must be concentrated on that and that alone.”

“What are you saying?” I murmured.

“That maybe I shouldn't have brought you here,” she sighed. There were footsteps on the other side of the door, getting closer to it, probably Jax, returning with that sleeping bag she'd promised Nova.

“Why?” I asked her as the doorknob began to turn.

“Because Jax is my ex,” said Nova, inclining her head to Jax as she pushed open the door.

Jax raised a brow as she entered the room, holding a rolled up navy blue sleeping bag. She shut the door behind her, and then she shoved the sleeping bag—perhaps a little rougher than necessary—into Nova's hands.

“Yeah,” said Jax, and her smile was a little colder than I'd remembered it being. “Be careful...she's a heartbreaker this one.” And when she glanced my way...I knew she knew.

Jax—Nova's ex—knew I was attracted to Nova.

Chapter 9: Complicated!

I was exhausted, bone deep, mentally, emotionally, so even though it was a strange bed and a very strange circumstance I now found myself in, I actually fell asleep quickly.

I was so tired that I didn't dream.

I woke up at my usual time, around six, because I knew I needed to take Sunny out. When you're a dog mom, it gets kind of ingrained on your consciousness that you have to get up around the same time every morning so your baby can go out and potty. If you're a dog parent, you understand. If you aren't, you'll just think I'm weird...and I think I can live with that.

I was still horribly exhausted, but my body woke me up like clockwork anyway.

So when I woke, I stared up at the ceiling, getting my bearings for a couple of heartbeats. I knew, immediately, where I was, but the situation I was currently mired in was a little hard to wrap my head around.

I sat up on my elbow and cast about the room for Nova.

She wasn't hard to find.

Nova had quietly taken up residence in the room with me last night. She'd had removed her suit jacket and her tie and had zipped up the sleeping bag around her legs, propping herself up in a seated position in the door frame.

And that's how she'd slept, in that seated position, with her arms crossed in front of her, her head leaning back against the old wood of the door frame, her mouth set in a soft frown, even in slumber.

I stayed up on my elbow for a long moment, my gaze following the contours of her form, those I could see, anyway. She drew my eyes, drew me to her. Even in sleep, there was no vulnerability. There was only an impenetrable wall that was built carefully around every inch of her, letting no one and nothing in... but there had been cracks in that wall. I'd seen them yesterday, small cracks that let out her light so I could see her, truly see her.

At least, I thought I had yesterday.

Just for a few moments...

I'd seen the real Nova.

That was silly to think, though. I'd known this woman for pretty much exactly twenty-four hours at this point. I was attracted to her, which made sense—she said she was keeping me safe, and isn't there a whole psychological thing about how we're attracted to those who protect us?

She was, for all intents and purposes, my bodyguard.

And considering who Nova was, how she presented herself, the raw power that she possessed...that was going to be sexy, no way around it.

I put my head to the side, considering this perfect stranger I'd been thrown together with by fate.

But had it really just been...fate?

There was a reason that Nova was with me, protecting me, guarding me.

A reason that I was not privy to.

I bit my lip and stretched my legs beneath the heavy quilt that Jax had given me last night for the guest bed. Sunny, who was at her usual spot, curled up on my lower legs, grumbled like a little old man because her sleep had been interrupted. This is what she did every morning when I started to wake her. It was such a familiar sound and gesture that, for a moment, I was back in my own bed, in my own bedroom, in my own condo, in my own completely normal life.

Just for a moment, though.

I sat up and stretched overhead, rolling my shoulders and trying to rub the sleep from my eyes...which was hard. I was still brutally exhausted, but Sunny had to go, and I wasn't about to mess up her schedule...kidnapped or not.

I got up and ruffled Sunny's fur, purposefully not looking over to Nova, who was also stirring in the doorway. I heard the shift of fabric and the sound of the sleeping bag zipper, and by the time I'd clipped Sunny's leash to her collar, Nova was up and on her feet and stretching overhead with a yawn wide enough almost to dislocate her jaw.

When she stretched overhead, her shirt rode up and over her belly. I tried not to look at it, but the room was pretty small, and there was a wide dearth of interesting things to focus on.

And there were absolutely no attractive items on which to give my attention.

Save for her.

The hem of Nova's shirt rode up and over her belly, revealing the sculpted plains of a woman who was toned as all hell. There were muscles, and the hard curves of an honest to goodness six-pack. Werewolves get muscled much faster than humans, which is a thing I had to grow up with, which was, by the way, a little unfair and frustrating to me, the human, whose hips and stomach absorbed calories every which way...

Sorry for the side track, I was trying to not focus on her abs in that moment, trying to not focus on how attractive she was and how damn attracted to her I was.

As hard as I tried though, it didn't work.

I was drawn to her.

And that fact was undeniable.

I bit my lip and watched her stretch, her arms up and over her head, her back arched, the hem of her shirt riding higher up her toned belly, watched her neck arch back, watched the soft waves of her shining hair fall over her shoulders and down her back, watched her entire body bend like a perfectly taut bow...

I watched her.

And I felt shame course through me for doing so, obviously.

But also a hell of a lot of desire.

I was able to look away quickly before her gaze came down to rest on me again, and when she straightened herself, I was patting my thigh, trying to coax Sunny down and off of the bed.

“What are you doing?” Nova rumbled to me, rolling her shoulders, stretching her neck from one shoulder to the other.

“I've got to walk my dog,” I told her, and it came out a little terser than I'd really wanted... I tried to soften it. “If you don't mind.”

She raised her hands in surrender, and gestured to the side of her, to the door. “Be my guest.”

I raised a brow. “You don't have to come along with me? What about the whole guarding thing?”

A sly smile turned her mouth up at the corners. “There will be absolutely no one in that parking lot who isn't supposed to be there. We're at Sanguis Ecclesia. You're safe here.” And she said it like she absolutely meant it.

So I took her word for it.

“I'll wash up while you're walking her,” said Nova then, and nodded to me as she opened the door and held it for me.

I imagined hot water from a shower head sluicing over Nova's toned muscles, her hot skin, and I knew I was blushing as I walked past her, dragging my sullen dog behind me, and I knew she probably saw that blush...but she'd have no idea why I was blushing...right?

I caught her grin when I walked under her arm as she held open the door for me.

It was...wicked.

Yeah.

She knew.

And that bothered me.

I kept walking stiffly down the corridor until I heard the door shut behind me...but it didn't shut for a long moment after I'd left the room.

Wait...was Nova watching me go?

Was she attracted to me, too?

I stopped for a second, blinking, gazing back at the shut door.

I was swarming with worries and wants and all sorts of self-annoyed feelings as I proceeded down the corridor until I almost literally ran into Jax.

I came around the corner, head down, tugging Sunny's leash gently behind me (she's seriously not a morning pup, remember), and then there was Jax, walking down the corridor reading something in a small, black book, and I almost ran straight into her, but avoided it narrowly.

“Sorry,” I muttered, side-stepping the vampire, who—for her part—gazed at me with bemusement, pocketing her little book.

“Going my way?” she asked, inclining her head and turning on her heel so that she was now walking in my direction.

“I...guess?” I hazarded, and together—almost companionably, shoulder to shoulder, we made our way down the hall.

“So, how did you sleep?” Jax asked me, giving me a careful, compassionate glance.

“Well...I'm still tired, but it was kind of a long day yesterday.” I gave her a small smile—she exuded a sort of comfort...it's a little hard to explain. Jax was just nice and put you at ease pretty much instantly when you were in her presence. It was an enjoyable experience to walk beside her, to talk to her, and I felt myself relaxing, by degrees, as we went along.

Jax held the door at the end of the hall open for me, and then I was outside, moderate sunshine coloring the sky above us a stark blue. It was a gloomy parking lot I now found myself in, considering that there were buildings on all sides of it, tall buildings, and the sunshine drifted down in a filtered way, but it was light enough. In the far corner was a car that I thought might be Nova's—it was black and sleek and sporty, which is what I vaguely remembered from last night.

“You can let your dog off leash if you like—there's a gate over the parking lot entrance right now,” said Jax, leaning against the side of the building and sliding her little black book from her front to her back pocket. Her fingers were sliding in her front slack pockets now, and then she was pulling out a narrow silver case and a brightly burnished silver lighter. I unclipped Sunny's leash from her collar and shooed my obstinate dog forward as she stared up at me mournfully.

“Go on, baby,” I cajoled her. “I know, I know, it's not what you're used to...but we've gotta make the best of it.”

“Was that advice for yourself or the dog?” asked Jax perceptibly as she took a cigarette out of the silver case. “Smoke?” she asked me, offering me the case, and I shook my head. She pocketed it, threading the cigarette between her lips and lit it, inhaling.

“Nasty habit,” she said almost absentmindedly, as she blew smoke out into the air between us from her nostrils. She inhaled again, flicking ash off the end of the cigarette. “But I picked it up young, and I just don't think I'm ever going to give it up. A lot of us smoke.”

I watched her, leaning against the stone of the church wall, too, sinking back against it as Sunny trundled around, finally interested in the strange smells of the parking lot to actually move.

“A lot of you smoke? Do you mean church goers? Or vampires?” I hazarded.

“Vampires.” A small grin tugging at the corners of Jax's mouth as she took another pull on the cigarette. We stood together quietly for a moment before she glanced my way. “So. You're with Nova. There's got to be an interesting story you're in the middle of.”

I stared down at the ground, giving a little shrug. “Yeah. I guess.”

I bit my lip.

I took a deep breath.

I glanced back up at her, at her kind eyes, at her caring face...

And then I just...told her everything.

It sort of...poured out of me. All of it. The fact that Nova had kidnapped me. That I was attracted to her from the start. That I'd tried to escape. That Nova had told me she had not, in fact, kidnapped me, and she'd taken me to keep me safe. Everything with the Dogstar and the Ares. How I didn't know why I was taken, but that I believed Nova, and I didn't quite know why...and I also believed she'd keep me safe.

When I was done pouring out my heart to Jax, I stared at her a little stricken. Nova wasn't exactly a perfect stranger, because we'd spent every moment of the last day together. But Jax? Jax was that perfect stranger. I didn't know her, didn't know anything about her...

But Nova trusted her.

So I supposed I did, too.

And there was something about Jax. Something so comforting that exuded from her kind eyes. It was easy to talk to her.

After I'd gotten done speaking, Jax was silent for a long moment, smoking her second cigarette down to the dregs. When it was completely spent, she tossed it down and ground it into dust with the toe of her shiny black shoe.

“Nova's not telling you why you were taken? That's kind of shitty for her.” Jax wrinkled her nose and cast me a sympathetic glance. “You're taking this whole situation pretty well.”

“I mean, what am I going to do? I tried to get out of this and someone else actually wanted to kill me.” The overwhelming frustration that I'd been feeling, that I'd been doing my best to quell, rose up in me like bile, and my hands curled into fists at my sides. “I feel so helpless in all of this...I don't know what to do. I just...I'm not used to inaction.”

Jax considered me quietly. “What do you want?”

I stared at her, eyes wide. “...Want?”

“Yeah, like...in a perfect world. What would your ideal outcome be in this situation?”

I blinked. I'd been so stuck in what was happening to me right here and right now that I hadn't really considered the future. “Well...” I chewed on my lip for a minute. “I just...I just want my old life back. I want...I want to be safe and not have to worry about people taking me randomly.” I groaned. “I'd like to not have to worry about being kidnapped. Or...” My voice became very quiet, almost a whisper. “Or killed.”

“Fair enough...I feel that most people would agree with you on wanting that kind of life,” said Jax, her eyes twinkling a little as she smiled at me, not unkindly. “If you could, would you go back in time, before yesterday happened, and not go on that walk after all?”

“What do you mean?” I watched her carefully.

“Say you hadn't taken your pup on that walk yesterday,” said Jax, watching me. “Say you'd decided to sleep in, only walk her on your sidewalk, or in your yard or...whatever. Say you'd never gone to that park, had never met Nova. If you could put all of this behind you as something that had never happened...would you?”

Her gaze was piercing now as she stared at me. This close, and—in actual daylight—I knew Jax was a vampire by sight now. You'd have to know vampires in order to be able to figure this out—a random person walking down the street wouldn't scream “vampire!” and flee in the opposite direction if they saw Jax walking toward them. But there were subtle tells. I was standing close to Jax, and could feel how cool she was, or—at least—the very air around her was much cooler than the actual warmth of the day. If I'd reached out and touched her skin, it'd be cold to the touch...she'd make me shiver. But she was also pale, paler than someone might normally be, and she wasn't wearing any lipstick, so there was a sort of bluish cast to her lips...

I stared at her and she stared at me expectantly.

I licked my lips. “Would I—”

“Would you rather this had never happened to you?” she asked me gently.

I blinked. When I closed my eyes, I saw the folks in hoods coming out of the shadows toward me last night. They'd been hunting me like I was some sort of animal. It sent a shiver along my spine. Some genuinely dangerous things had happened to me yesterday, and if Nova hadn't come along at just that moment, I might have died...

But I never would have been there in the first place if it wasn't for Nova...

Nova.

I stared at the ground, my jaw clenching and unclenching as I realized that, if I were to go back in time, if I could prevent the events of yesterday from happening at all...

That meant I would never have met Nova.

Nova.

I took a deep breath. I didn't know what was happening, who Nova was protecting me from, but I knew that I believed her. That she was, in fact, protecting me from something.

I knew, deeply, truly...

In that complete hypothetical (time travel, for all I know, is still very much off the table), if I could go back in time and change everything...

I wouldn't.

I looked up at Jax, and before I said anything, her eyes were narrowed shrewdly, and she was nodding as she took another cigarette out of the little case and lit up again, flicking off the ash as she straightened her priest's collar with impatient fingers.

“I knew it. You like her. You like her a lot.”

I wasn't going to refute that. It was the truth.

“Does that...does that bother you? You said you used to date her?” I wrinkled my nose, trying to meet this discomfort head on...but it was pretty damn uncomfortable.

Jax shook her head and inhaled deeply on the cigarette. “Nah, doesn't bother me. The pup and I...we were pretty damn incompatible.”

I put my head to the side. “How?”

Her grin deepened. “Well, I'm not exactly a damsel in distress.”

I felt a blush rising in my cheeks. Jax shook her head, coughed a little, waving the smoke away from her face.

“No, no, that's nothing to be embarrassed about...Nova...there's something you've gotta know about her. She needs a cause, right? She's...” Jax stared up at the bright blue sky far distant from us, narrowing her eyes as if she was trying to see through the atmosphere and far, far up to the stars. “She's very protective.” Jax finally murmured. “She's very protective. She's perfect at being a bodyguard, and I know she's going to keep you safe...honestly, if I were in Astrid's shoes, I would have utilized that gift of Nova's long before now. She's a good bodyguard. She'll rip the throat out of anyone coming near you. You're very lucky.” Jax's gaze fell back to earth and she looked at me with something almost akin to pity now, her eyes soft. “After you went to sleep, Nova told me a little bit about your situation. I can't say anything—she made me swear,” said Jax quickly, lifting a hand when I opened my mouth, “but I wanted you to know...you're taken care of. You're safe. There's nothing for you to worry about. So as long as you're happy here...that's the only thing that matters, really.”

The only thing that matters.

I nodded again, leaning back a little harder against the stones. “But...but what about how helpless I'm feeling?”

“Nova'll eat that up with a spoon,” Jax snorted, then lifted her hand again in a conciliatory gesture when she saw my expression. “I understand that you're frustrated—I would be, too, if put in your situation.”

“I'm a strong person. I take care of myself,” I began, and Jax was nodding.

“I'm not saying you aren't. You must be. Obviously. You've been in trouble for a while, and you're still standing, so it seems you know how to avoid trouble.” Jax put her head to the side. “But what's happening to you right now...this isn't something normal people face.”

The way she put emphasis on the word “normal” made the blood drain from my face.

“Wait...does this all have something to do with my family?” I whispered to her.

Jax held my gaze for a long moment, inhaling deeply on the cigarette. This one was already down to the dregs again—she smoked faster than a chimney—and she dropped it to the ground and pressed the toe of her shoe down hard onto the smoking remnant, grinding it to ash with a cool ferocity that made me blink.

“You're safe, Annie,” said Jax, and the words were soft and kind, though her eyes flashed. “You would be dead right now if it wasn't for Nova, and I know I can't explain to you the why of it all...I wish so much I could. I know you must be so frustrated. But I hope you can hang tight for just a little while longer. Just a little. Everything will come to light soon enough, and then you'll see that everything, everything was orchestrated to keep you safe.”

“But that means...I just have to trust you...” I let the words hang in the air between us.

Jax pushed her long, slim fingers into the pockets of her black slacks, and she hung her head forward a little, looking up at me through long lashes. “Yes, it does. It means you've got to have a little faith.”

I glanced up at the church towering above her, flicked my gaze back to Jax, and her priest's collar.

“I'm not really good at faith,” I admitted quietly. “I don't really believe in much of...much of anything, really.”

Jax nodded, giving me a kind smile. “Most of us don't. We fall on hard times. People can be cruel. We encounter darkness that we couldn't have fathomed existed in this world. But, even in darkness, if you hang on long enough...” Jax lifted her gaze as the clouds scuttled across the sky, as the parking lot lit up with ambient sunshine, a warm breeze rolling between the buildings to touch us, even here. “The light will always come,” she murmured to me, and she stepped forward. Gently and slowly—so that I could shrug out of it, if I wanted to—she put a kind arm about my shoulders and pulled me back into the hallway, holding the door for me and Sunny, who came bounding across the courtyard toward us, jubilant at the mere prospect of a delicious doggie breakfast.

“So,” I said slowly, carefully, as we walked along the corridor, Sunny trotting ahead of us, her little Sheltie tail swishing back and forth happily, “what do vampires...do in a church?”

“Do?” Jax actually chuckled in surprise. “Ah, you want me to tell you we have ritual blood sacrifices or something else salacious, don't you?” She waggled her brows at me, and I couldn't help but chuckle in return.

“I mean, being human and all—I'd really prefer if that wasn't your answer,” I quipped. “But, I mean...if it is...” I trailed off, glancing sidelong at her, and Jax chuckled again, too, shaking her head.

“You know vampires exist, so you must also know that most of us don't look at humans as...ah...'blood banks,' is I think what the bad vamp kids are calling it these days.” Jax cast her eyes heavenward. “No. There are no blood sacrifices at vampire church. But we do do a blood ritual...which sounds much more demonic than it actually is,” she murmured quickly, raising a hand, “I just wanted to get the 'shocking' part out of the way quickly, kind of like a shot, right? This'll pinch a little, and then it'll be over. So, yes, there's a blood ritual.” She winked at me. “But it's really simple. We just come together. We drink humans who are willing to offer up their blood to us, in kind and generous sacrifice of themselves. It's a beautiful sacrament, the drinking of a human who willingly gives of herself to you...” Jax's eyes were seeing much farther than the end of the corridor. “But, at the very end of the day,” she said, shaking her head and coming back to herself, “Sanguis Ecclesia is a meeting place of vampires who come together and work...as cheesy as it sounds, and trust me, I run this place, I know it sounds cheesy...but we work to make the world a better place. We have longer lives,” she murmured, lifting her hand and placing it over her own heart as I stared at her, perplexed, “and we are powerful and strong. We have influence. If we do not leave this world better for having been in it...then what have we done with the gifts we've been given?”

“Given?” I shook my head. “Does that mean you believe in God?”

“We all believe different things—just like most humans. But we do worship something bigger than ourselves.” Jax's eyes twinkled as she gazed at me. “We believe, at the heart of everyone, vampire, werewolf, human, there is a spark of goodness, deep inside of us. We don't know where it came from, but we know it's there. And it's to that we pledge our hearts, our lives. We are kind, Annie. We do our best to be kind.”

I stared sidelong at a woman who I was quickly considering to be a new friend. “That's...that's so nice. I mean, past all the clever remarks and skepticism and cynicism of...of everything. It's nice to know there are people trying their best.”

“Believe it not,” said Jax companionably, bumping her shoulder gently against mine, “I think that most folks are trying their best.”

I stayed quiet and walked beside her down the hallway, toward the church kitchen.

I wasn't sure if I believed her.

But I wanted to believe.

Chapter 10: Advice!

This really wasn't what I expected to happen in my life...this wasn't exactly something I could have predicted...

And yet, the world never bends to what humans expect. So day folded into day, time passed on...

And as the sun rose and set, as I passed that time at Sanguis Ecclesia, the vampire church, I found myself not really paying attention to the passage of time. Honestly, I didn't realize how quickly these days were passing me by...

But it was soon weeks that I'd lived in the guest quarters in the church. And, trust me, I know this is gonna sound like one big cliché, but the reason I didn't notice the passage of time?

It was all because of her.

Well. That's both true and false. I should clarify.

It hardly seemed like much time was passing at all because of how incredibly frustrating life was Nova with.

That morning started just like all the other mornings, so let me tell you how it went:

I woke up. I stared at the ceiling with a sigh, feeling my pup grumble on top of my feet as I shifted my weight on the mattress. I turned onto my side to take in Nova.

Nova had, over the days, gradually shifted her sleeping position from propped up in the doorway like a medieval sentry, to lying prone on the floor in the sleeping bag. Overtures had been made by Jax that Nova sleeping on the floor night after night was inhumane and cruel, and that she'd set about trying to find a trundle bed or air mattress for her, but Nova had made some noises about how we were already putting out the congregation at Sanguis Ecclesia, and she “wouldn't hear of it.” She'd also told Jax—practically convincingly—that she didn't mind sleeping on the floor, didn't really feel the hardness of the floor, actually kind of liked it because of the whole werewolf thing...

This is where I called bullshit. My entire family was werewolves, remember, and let me tell you: they loved their beds just as much as humans, thanks.

Nova was just being noble and self-sacrificing in her own quiet way...not that Nova was quiet. She wasn't.

But she did good things quietly. She did noble things quietly.

It was unexpected.

It was...nice.

Anyway, Nova was lying on the floor on her back, fast asleep. Most folks (including yours truly) don't look that put together when they sleep...but Nova did. She was currently lying on her back, an arm pillowed beneath her head, her shining brunette hair spread beneath her head and around it a bit like a halo. Her curving chest rose and fell easily, slowly, rhythmically. She was wearing one of her tank tops and a pair of gym shorts under the sleeping bag.

I watched her for a moment, watched that rhythmic rise and fall of her chest. She looked relaxed.

Almost, but not quite, soft.

The thing was, I knew...there was softness to Nova.

Especially where it concerned me.

I was sitting up on my elbow, and as I considered her, as I felt a flush in my cheeks rising just from looking at her...

She opened her left eye and glanced my way, a small smirk turning up her mouth at the corners.

“Watching me while I sleep?” she asked mildly.

“Maybe,” I replied, even though my cheeks deepened in their flush.

That's how we talked to each other, after all. We bantered, right?

But I'd be lying if I said there was no meaning to it.

“Sorry I wasn't doing anything more interesting,” she quipped, closing her eyes again and groaning a little as she stretched overhead.

“Are you sore?” I asked her. Nova glanced my way then, and I waved my hand to the sleeping bag. “'Cause you're sleeping on the floor?”

Nova sighed and rolled her shoulders against the ground. “Nah.”

“There's no shame if you are sore,” I pointed out. “It'd just make you mortal. You've been sleeping on the ground for, like...a month.”

“Has it really been that long?” she murmured, looking up the ceiling, but then she shook her head. “And you don't know if I'm mortal or not.” She grinned as she sat up and reached up, massaging her right shoulder.

“You are sore.” I frowned for a minute, and then I moved over, patting the side of the bed. “Come up here.”

Nova glanced sidelong at me and shook her head. “I told you I'm fine.”

“Stop being noble. I'm getting up anyway—gotta walk the pup.” At that word, Sunny's head shot up muzzily, as if to say “I'm awake!” She yawned a big, doggie yawn as I sat up on the edge of the bed and stretched myself. “Seriously, Nova, just lie down on a comfy mattress for, like, five minutes. It's not gonna kill you. I promise I won't think you're any less cool.”

“So you admit you think I'm cool.” Nova stood up and stretched again, bending her back like a bow as she grinned at me.

“Let's not get cocky,” I told her, my breath hitching in my throat as she bent over, touching her toes. Her tank top rode up her stomach, over her back, and her shorts were pretty damn short. Everything that was toned and lovely about her was visible, and I'd already seen her naked, yes, but just because you've looked at piece of art a few times doesn't mean it loses its beauty.

In fact, art grows more captivating the more you stare at it...

That was my excuse, anyway, as I stared at her. Nova straightened, standing and put her hands on her hips, giving me another cocky grin as she padded over to me, sitting beside me on the edge of the bed, as she curled her shoulders forward. I was used to seeing her in a suit, used to seeing her exude power as she prowled through the corridors of the church or lounged moodily in the guest room (she actually did a lot of things moodily, I'd learned in the last few weeks).

But “suit” Nova was a different Nova from the one who slept in a sleeping bag on the floor beside my bed to keep me safe. “Suit” Nova was the professional bounty hunter, bodyguard and ruthless gang member who—I knew now—had killed her fair share of folks.

This wasn't “my” Nova.

My Nova was the one who sat beside me for just a moment, staring sleepily ahead before yawning so hugely that she looked almost comical as she placed the back of her hand in front of her mouth, rolling her shoulders back. She sighed muzzily, blinking slowly.

It was a well-worn gesture that had her leaning her shoulder against mine then. We'd done this a lot since coming here, sitting side by side on the bed, because it was the only thing to sit on in the room, and we'd talk just like this. We did it often.

But then, the common scene...it changed, just a little bit, almost imperceptibly to anyone watching...

Nova sagged against me just a little, and then—though she was much taller than me—she leaned sideways and rested her head on my shoulder.

I stiffened against her. What she did was an intimate gesture. What someone does when they know the other person deeply.

Did we know each other deeply now?

It seemed like it. Maybe we did.

The days had flowed easily one into the other. There were meals that we partook of with Jax in the little kitchenette in the basement of the church. Jax was kind and somehow found frozen meals for both me and Nova, who ate a little bit like a cross between a horse and a bear (translation, lots). Werewolves have different metabolism than humans, which I think I touched on earlier, but let me reiterate: werewolves eat a lot, and Nova was almost always hungry until Jax started to realize that the frozen meals weren't enough and whole slabs of meat found their way in the church fridge.

“People are starting to think the church got a dog,” said Jax jokingly when she set a few styrofoam containers of raw chicken breasts on the table in front of Nova, who fell upon them pretty much immediately.

“That's not very nice,” said Nova almost primly, before waving at Sunny, who sat at Jax's feet, thumping her tail happily up at the vampire. “And you did get a dog.”

That was a few weeks ago. Time had moved on, and we were almost in a rhythm now at Sanguis Ecclesia.

But this, Nova leaning against my shoulder...it was a different rhythm than what had come before.

Startlingly different.

It was...nice.

“I'm so sleepy,” sighed Nova then, yawning again. I felt the muscles of her jaw moving against my shoulder, felt the soft press of her right breast against my arm. I tried to relax, just a little—I knew she'd pick up on my tension if I didn't tone it down quickly—but it was so hard to.

The way we were sitting together, so close, almost entwined together...this is what girlfriends did.

It didn't escape me that my mind skipped over the idea that friends certainly do this, too.

The thing was? I didn't want to be friends with Nova.

I knew that, had known that for a while, but I'd finally come to terms with it.

I wanted more.

I think she did, too.

I mean...I wasn't certain. Nova was flirty, that's just how she was, and that's how I'd tried to explain away all of the things she said to me...but she didn't talk like this to Jax, did she?

And she and Jax had been together. They had history.

And yet Nova only flirted with me.

We didn't see many other folks besides Jax—there were other vampires who came and went for, I assume, vampire-y meetings and church business, stuff like that. But we didn't really talk to them. Jax said that Sanguis Ecclesia had guards and patrols, so the church was watched. This meant that no one from the Ares could come for us...but those folks who patrolled and guarded, they weren't in the church with us.

So Nova interacted with me and Jax alone.

And the way she interacted with both of us was very different.

That meant something...didn't it?

So, I didn't have a whole heck of a lot to do here. I was kept knee-deep in books, thanks goodness, and there was the cable television in the old pastor's quarters, but I'd dropped my phone outside of the Dogstar mansion that fateful night, so I didn't have the internet or fun, mindless games...

Which meant that I had time for a lot of thinking.

Thinking can, of course, be a double edged sword.

Especially when you're thinking not just with your head...but with your heart.

I felt Nova pressed against me, felt the glorious, gracious curve of her breast against my arm, felt the weight and solidity of her thigh against me, the curve of her hip, the curve of her cheek and jaw...oh, all those lovely curves. They were pressed against me now, my body felt them, and my heart did, too, dammit. It started to pound harder, faster, and I couldn't ease the tension out of my shoulders, even as I willed myself to.

Nova sat up straight and gazed sidelong at me, her mouth in a soft, neutral line. “Are you all right?”

I gazed sidelong at her, and realized Nova was so close. Kissing close. Her eyes were drooping a little from being so sleepy, and her hair framed her face with softness, and her mouth was gleaming with a sheer wet because she'd just run her tongue over her lower lip as she'd straightened...

“I just...I have to walk my dog,” is what I quickly said, because I'm really horrible at confrontation, and—apparently—spineless. Trust me, I cursed myself into an early grave as I stood, walking away from her, cursed myself into a really deep early grave as I hauled Sunny after me, and I cursed myself into a deep early grave that was mortgaged as I pulled Sunny into the hallway and out of the church's guest room.

No, I don't know how a grave would be mortgaged, but I assume that would be a really horrible, uncomfortable situation, which is what I totally deserved at that moment.

Once I was out of the main hallway and in another one, I stopped to catch my breath. “Oh, shit,” I muttered, leaning against the hallway wall and raking my fingers back through my hair. I bonked the back of my head against the wall gently once, twice, three times. “Shit,” I muttered again, staring at the ceiling.

“Um?” came a voice, and there was Jax, standing beside me in her customary black pants, black button down shirt and priest's collar. She had her head to the side, and her brows were furrowed.

Vampires move very quietly, which was why I jumped out of my skin when she made the noise next to me.

She'd appeared out of nowhere. How the hell did she do that?

“Sorry,” Jax muttered, patting my shoulder, “I tried to 'harrumph' as I made my way down the hallway toward you, but I think you were too deep in miasma to notice.”

I blinked. “Miasma?”

Jax leaned against the wall with me, pressing her shoulders into it as she shrugged. “In the middle ages, 'miasma' was considered this black fog of sadness that would consume people.”

I blinked again. “I mean...I'm not totally there. But...” I trailed off, glancing at Jax's comforting, kind face. “Do you have to smoke?” I asked uncertainly.

“Always.” She grinned and pushed off from the wall, and together, we walked down the rest of the hallway and through the church, out into the parking lot.

I let Sunny off the leash, and she darted in small, happy circles before she set down to the business at hand: smelling every single inch of the space to make sure no one else had “claimed” it since last night.

(Spoiler alert: no one had, but this was Serious Business to Sunny, and I love my dog, so I cheered her on from the sidelines.)

“So,” said Jax, taking out the familiar silver case and lighter, lighting up so fast that I almost didn't see it. She took a deep inhale of the glowing cigarette and sighed happily, the smoke blowing out of her nostrils. “How are things?”

I wrinkled my nose. Something had been worrying me. “Can vampires get...like...” I gestured at the cigarette. “Cancer?”

She blinked. “Not the direction I thought you'd take the conversation in—”

“Sorry,” I murmured quickly, “I just...worry?”

Jax put her head to the side and gave me a wry smile as she flicked the ash off the end of her cigarette. “I promise you: I'm a big girl, Annie. What I do is what I do. These are my decisions to make.”

I blushed past the color scarlet and ended up around the neighborhood of blood red. “Sorry,” I murmured again.

Jax shrugged and grinned at me again, taking another pull of her cigarette. “No, don't worry about it. Your heart is in the right place, which is something. And, anyway,” her grin deepened, “Nova told me you'd ask about it.”

I blinked. “...Nova...told you...?”

“That you'd Mother Hen me about smoking.”

If at all possible, my blush deepened. “I don't Mother Hen.”

Jax raised a brow and she laughed a little. “Don't you?”

“I just worry about people. I want...I want everyone to be healthy and happy and have good lives—”

“And that's nice,” said Jax, watching me carefully. “Nova loves that about you.”

My breathing started to pick up its pace. “...'Loves?'”

Jax was silent for a long moment, staring at the broken ground in front of us, the slabs of cracked pavement and bits of gravel, the weeds growing up through the cracks. There were a lot of dandelions in full bloom in the parking lot. They never much cared when cars parked on them, flattening their leaves...they kept blooming anyway.

There was a metaphor in there somewhere.

“You've been visiting with us...over a month, I think. Do I have that right?” asked Jax. I nodded, watching her carefully. “Well, in that whole month, maybe a bit more...you never asked to leave. That's...interesting.”

I looked down at the ground, too. It suddenly seemed just as interesting. “Why would I? Nova told me I have to stay here to stay safe.”

“And you believe her.”

I looked back up at Jax quickly. There was no tone in her words, and her face was carefully neutral as she watched me now, her face wreathed in smoke from the cigarette she held elegantly in her long fingers. She took another pull on it. “You do. You believe her,” she stated.

A fact, not a question.

I didn't bother to argue with her.

“Why?” she asked me then.

“I trust her.”

“Why?”

“Because...I just do.”

“Why?”

I stared at Jax. “Does it matter?”

Jax grinned. “It sure as hell does.”

“Then...” I trailed off. I thought for a long moment. “Because I feel that I should.” The words hadn't come strongly out of my mouth, so I pressed my palm to my belly, pressed down hard so that I felt the solidity of myself.

I kept going.

“I just...I felt it. From the moment I met her, or thereabouts...I just knew she wasn't going to hurt me. When she told me that she was going to keep me safe, there wasn't a single part of me that wondered if she was lying...I knew she was telling the truth. There's this...sincerity about Nova. This seriousness. It's not there when she's joking or flirting, it's not really, not on the surface...but it's still inside of her. I still see it.” I trailed off. “God, that's so ridiculous, all of it. I'm not explaining myself right.”

Jax said nothing, only watched me, her face soft but expressionless.

“This whole world...” I trailed off. That seemed too big of a focus, so I tried to dial it back a little. “Everything can be really bad, most of the time, you know? There's shootings and cruelty and folks killing each other and looking out for only themselves. People walk by homeless folks, ignoring them. We ignore so much of the pain that's happening to each other.” I flicked my gaze to Jax, who watched me quietly. “I was guilty of that, too. I'm not perfect. I never had a tendency to believe that folks had goodness in their hearts. But ever since Nova found me walking in the woods on that path...I've started to believe that maybe, just maybe, they do.” I watched Jax. “She found me. She said the Ares was closing in on me, that they were going to kidnap me that morning, and I honestly believe her. She saved me from that.”

“True. But not selflessly,” interjected Jax. “She's getting paid to do this, and she's told you as much.”

I shifted into the heels of my feet uncomfortably. I didn't exactly know how to put my feelings into words...but I had to try. It helped that Jax was easy to talk to.

“I know,” I hazarded. “But there's no amount of money that can buy your own life, is there? Nova has put her life in danger to save me. And that's...that's something priceless.”

Jax continued to say nothing, blowing a lungful of smoke into the air.

I stared at the brick building opposite us for a long moment, the words looping around and around in my head.

I hadn't said them yet, and to say them made them real...

But I had to tell someone.

“I'm falling in love with her,” I finally said, trailing off. Then I tried to explain it, as if love can be explained. “Nova's keeping me safe, and I know that that's part of my feelings, trust me...I know...” I bit my lip in frustration and looked back down at the ground, staring at it as if it might have all the answers.

It didn't.

We were both silent for a long moment then until Jax nodded, stomping out the fuming remains of the cigarette. “That's good,” is what she told me.

Which surprised me.

“What?” I asked her.

“That's good,” Jax told me with a shrug. “There's a hell of a lot of hatred in this world. There needs to be more love.” She raised a brow. “Don't you agree?”

“I mean, of course I do...but it's not so simple as that,” I told her, shaking my head with emphasis. “Nova...she kidnapped me. And you're right, she's being paid to keep me safe. And I don't yet know what's happening to me, and—”

“Humans are complicated,” interrupted Jax gently. “And you know what? So are vampires and werewolves. We're all complicated, we all tend to overthink things and complicate things and when our heads and hearts get involved, it all ends up a little messier than we'd like...but that's life, isn't it?” She put her head to the side as she considered me. “Life isn't perfect. It's messy. And often, it's hard. But there are good moments in the middle of all the messes. That's what makes it worth it. That,” she said, taking a long inhale of her cigarette, “and love. That's what makes all of this worth it.” She fixed me with a sidelong grin. “And if you don't think that was all way too cheesy, you're farther along than most of us.”

I stayed quiet for a long moment. I didn't say anything and the silence stretched out between us. In the distance, Sunny kept jumping up on her hind paws, snapping her teeth at a moth that flew just maddeningly out of reach. I watched my dog—we both did—and then Jax cleared her throat.

“I know...you ladies haven't really done anything since you came here. You've mostly been cooped up...why don't you do something tonight? Something fun?”

“We can't leave here. Nova says it wouldn't be safe,” I sighed.

Jax raised a brow. “Who said you have to leave here?”

I watched her carefully.

“We're having...ah...church tonight,” she said, inserting a fingertip between her priest collar and her neck and loosening it a little as she cleared her throat. “You're more than welcome to join us.”

I blinked. “Isn't vampire church for...vampires?”

“Everyone's welcome,” said Jax hastily. “Everyone. And it'd give you something to do.” Her mouth turned up at the corners a little. “Aren't you curious about it?”

I smiled at her and shrugged. “Yeah. Maybe a little.”

“It starts at seven tonight. In the sanctuary,” said Jax, inclining her head behind her, at the big church.

I nodded slowly, then a little faster. “It'll be really cool,” I told her. “Thanks for inviting us.”

“At the very least it'll be interesting,” she said, her head to the side, her teeth bright and shiny as she grinned at me...

Maybe they were a little pointy, too.

Interesting.

Perhaps not the most appropriate word one might use for vampire church...

But then, at that moment, I had no idea what was involved in such a thing.

But I soon would.

Chapter 11: Truth!

What does one wear to vampire church?

I settled on the plainest black dress I had in the suitcase of things Halley had lent me. The dress still had some glittering silver thread shot through the sleeves and the hem of the dress's (very short) skirt, but the rest of it was church-worthy, I hoped.

I hadn't grown up going to church, and the only times I'd ever been inside of a place of worship were for weddings and funerals, so I had a relative idea of dress code, but only that.

All things being relative, this was gonna have to do.

I slipped into the dress in the bathroom off of the pastor's quarters, brushing my hair in the chipped mirror above the antique sink. I could hear voices out in the bedroom, and I figured it was the television that Nova was watching. But when I'd pinned my hair up with an array of bobby pins that Halley had also thoughtfully lent me, when I was satisfied with how I looked and left the bathroom...

Nova wasn't in the bedroom anymore.

The television was still on, but it wasn't tuned to the station Nova had been watching—a nature documentary about wolves that she kept making frustrated noises and harrumphs at—but to a local news station.

I was concentrating on the fact hat I was about to go to vampire church. I was thinking about a million different things—mostly related on what might happen at vampire church—and I was so distracted that if I hadn't stared directly at the television screen, I would have missed it completely.

But as I was passing the TV, I saw something familiar out of the corner of my eye. It was enough to make me turn and look...

And then I stopped and I stared at that screen, my mouth falling open, everything else disappearing around me in a single heartbeat.

Because my sister's picture was on the television.

“Amanda Bellfield” flashed on the chyron at the bottom of the screen, beneath a picture that had been taken by my sister at a benefit last year—I forget which one. Amanda stood, regal, her chin turned up as she stared at the camera with a dazzling smile, the sleeves of the red dress gracing her shoulders with softest silk. She had her head to the side, and she was glancing at the camera as if she and the camera had just shared some really good news. She'd raised a lot of money for her cause that night, and I'd been there to celebrate it with her. This is before our parents retired, before they moved (more or less) permanently to the Keys. They'd hosted that benefit. They'd been the ones to bring in the big name stars, celebrities big and small, the bellwethers and the influencers, but Amanda had been the one to turn their hearts and bring in the donations.

She's really good at that.

She's good at everything.

My heart hammered hard inside of my chest as I managed to grasp up the remote and I turned up the volume as the news anchor came back on.

“This evening, Amanda Bellfield was scheduled to appear at a benefit for the homeless of Pittsburgh at the city's renowned ballroom, Savoy. Unfortunately, she did not show, prompting some of her critics—most notably, Veronica Cervova, CEO of Cervova Writing Products—to state that Ms. Bellfield, prominent female CEO of Bellfield Pencil Company, one of the foremost writing utensil companies in the country—does not do her fair share of philanthropy toward the under-served in Pittsburgh.”

I narrowed my eyes at the television.

Why was that name familiar...? I knew Ms. Cervova—their company competed with us in a friendly rivalry for best-selling pencils, after all—but I'd never really heard her first name before.

That name...

“We contacted Ms. Bellfield's office for comment, but at this time, none of her representatives have returned our call.” The news anchor, an attractive woman in her fifties, stared at the camera and frowned slightly. “We would not normally report on the doings of the Pittsburgh elite, but we've received an anonymous tip at this station, as of one hour ago, from a person who stated that they have kidnapped Ms. Bellfield. We've contacted the police, and they have received the same call. There is no other information at this time, and we will inform you the moment there is. In other—”

Everything else faded away. Everything else.

I stared at the television.

I tried to draw in a deep breath, but I was shaking so much that it was hard to inhale.

My sister.

Amanda.

Taken.

I was filled with such raw emotion, confusion, feeling...so much filled me that I was full to overflowing, and I had to move or explode. It was only logical to shut off the blaring television, and when it was silent, I crossed the room to the hallway door. But when I reached it, I paused, my hand on the doorknob.

Because there were voices out in the hallway.

Normally, I'm not the type who will covertly listen to a conversation I don't have any part in. But there was something about the way Nova was speaking—and it was definitely Nova just outside the door in the hall, carrying on half of that quiet conversation...

The other person was too low-voiced for me to hear.

Or...

No.

There was only one person out in that hallway, Nova.

And she was speaking to someone on the phone.

“—yes, I understand that. But I promise you, no one knows where we are—” she was trying to interject when the person on the other end of the phone cut her off. “No one knows,” she reiterated after a moment, furtively. “Just one friend, and she can be trusted. She hasn't told anyone who—exactly—is here with me, but I assure you, where we are is well guarded. No one from the Ares would dare—” Nova sighed, and a long minute of silence passed. “I know. I understand. I do, but—”

There was a long silence then. And the sound of shoes on the hallway floor.

And Nova turned the doorknob, opening the door beneath my hand.

It was obvious I'd been listening. When she pushed in the door, I was standing right there, and I was probably wearing a bit of a guilty look on my face. I bit my lip as Nova raised a brow, pushing the door gently in the rest of the way, entering the room, then shutting it behind her. Her phone was in her hand—the call she'd been on had ended, apparently.

Nova put her head to the side, looked past me to the television I'd just turned off. She flicked her gaze back to me, brows only slightly furrowed.

Had she seen the beginning of the news story?

Did she know about my sister?

Nova was wearing the hell out of one of her suits (a gray pinstripe number that was so expertly tailored along her curves that even thinking about it makes me weak in the knees, let alone looking at her in it). Her cream-colored shirt, beneath the jacket, was unbuttoned the first few buttons, and her tie wasn't yet tied, lying about her neck like a languid purple ribbon. These small details worked against the professionalism of the suit and gave her an almost casual appearance...

Nova's head was still to the side as she considered me, as she leaned against the door, her hair falling over her shoulder, reflecting the light with that almost golden glint, shimmering in the shadows.

She said nothing, waiting for me to begin, her eyes flashing, too as she narrowed them.

“Um,” I said with maximum eloquence, folding my hands nervously in front of me over and over again. On the bed, Sunny was rooting around in the blankets, rolling over onto her back in ecstasies, which was objectively adorable, but I couldn't pay her much mind at the moment.

All I was, my entire being, focused solely on Nova.

She had that power about her that could draw your gaze like gravity.

She was a force of nature, after all.

Nova lowered her chin, lifted a brow, her eyes flashing, and my knees got a little bit weaker.

But I stayed the course.

“Do you know what's happened to my sister?” I murmured to her, picking at my fingernails with a nervous energy.

Nova sighed and folded her arms in front of her.

She still said nothing.

“Nova...” I took a step forward, and we were toe to toe, Nova leaning easily against the door, me leaning toward her, as if her body was pulling me to her...

And it kind of did. It kind of made me want to reach up, curl my fingers around the curves at her waist, made me want...

She made me want so much.

But my heart was in my throat after watching that news report. My heart was hurting.

“I know you're not supposed to tell me much—I know, I understand all of that,” I said, raising a hand when she began to protest. Nova frowned slightly, but stayed silent then. “But...something's happened to my sister. Did you see the news report?”

Nova's gaze flickered to the television and then back to me.

She nodded almost imperceptibly.

“Was my sister kidnapped? By...by the Ares?” Tears began to flood my eyes, and I blinked them back.

No.

I didn't have time to be upset.

I only had time to be pissed.

Nova stared down at me in alarm, her eyes wide. “Well...” She murmured, and then she slowly reached her hands up and curled her fingers cautiously around my elbows. “Annie? Please...please don't cry...” She stammered.

I'd never seen Nova at a loss for words before, and as the tears drifted down my cheeks, I lifted my chin, took a deep breath.

“Nova, I know you're keeping me safe, and I trust you, I believe you...I do. But what about my sister? Who's helping her? What's going on? I...I'm really close with Amanda. What if something happened to her? What if...?” I couldn't finish it—my throat tightened with emotion and I could no longer speak.

Nova's jaw worked, and she gazed over my shoulder with flinty eyes for a long moment, trying to find the right words. Her face, normally so careful and guarded, openly showed the struggle she currently fought in her heart.

Nova wanted to tell me the truth.

I saw it in her.

She wanted to tell me the truth.

I stayed quiet. I watched her. I felt the warmth of her skin unfurling against me, into me, felt the warmth of her hands on me, felt the warmth of her nearness. There was a certain quality of heat to Nova that translated through her fingertips into something akin to fire.

That fire coursed through my body, flowed through my veins, my muscles, my bones, filled my heart, burned it bright, brighter still...

But I stayed the course.

I looked up at her. I took a deep breath.

I willed her with my expression, with the trust we'd given to each other, with all that I was...to tell me the truth.

And, amazingly...

She did.

Nova looked down at me, searched my face, her own brow furrowed, her mouth curling down into an exquisite frown...and she murmured, her voice a low growl: “your sister is safe. You'll have to...you'll have to just trust me on that. But I don't want you to worry about her or mourn her or...or anything like that. She's perfectly safe. She's all right, Annie.”

She had given me that truth.

And, as I stared up at her, as I felt the heat of her radiating through me...

I realized I was going to have to trust her as much as she'd just trusted me.

I would have to believe her.

And, amazingly...

I did.

I nodded once, twice, and I realized—in a sort of distant, detached way—that my front was pressing against her front now, that my feet were standing almost between hers, I was leaning so hard against her. Because I believed her, totally and utterly, and all of the adrenaline that had been moving through me, pouring through me as I considered the idea that my sister had been taken, suddenly had no place to go.

Relief consumed me, then, and I sagged against Nova.

She seemed surprised, and—for a mere heartbeat—was stiff against me, though she never stopped holding me, her hands tenderly wrapped about my elbows, and now her arms came up and around my shoulders gently—almost gingerly, as if she'd never hugged someone before, had only seen it done on television and in the movies, and wasn't really certain how to go about it.

But once her arms were around me, I melted against her. Here, in the circle of her embrace, her dark, enticing cologne and the scent of her skin, her hair, the wild scent of all that was Nova filled my lungs when I inhaled, entering me with a soft slyness like a stolen kiss.

I was almost breathless from it when I looked up at her. This was, if I remembered correctly, the closest we'd ever been before...you know, apart from the time that Nova kidnapped me. Her heat, the scent of her, the softness of her palms, and the slight roughness of her fingertips against my skin, it was all so much. Here she was, right in front of me, against me, the raggedness of her breathing, as if she was almost panting, or close to it, in my ear, her brow furrowed as she gazed down at me, so unsure...

She was holding something back in her expression.

I stared up at her, I studied her face, reveled in that warmth and softness against me, and I knew what she was trying to hide. For beneath that careful, controlled mask of power and confidence that she projected to the world, there, just beneath it...

The truth.

Nova stared down at me, and there was desire plainly on her face. Desire, want, and an outpouring of affection that startled me so much that—in any other circumstance—I might take a step backward. Instead, I pressed closer to her, close enough that the strong thrum of her heartbeat was something I could literally feel against me, beneath my palms.

There it was, plain as stars in a cloudless night sky, once I glimpsed it.

Love.

She looked at me with love.

I was so overwhelmed by emotion and feeling at that moment I might have turned into a hurricane and battered a couple of coastlines if I had half the chance. It rose in me powerfully, in answer to her...

That want. That need. That desire...

What I was feeling...it was a terrifying idea to put it into a single word, but I knew what it was. And I couldn't deny it. If I did, it would mean I'd have to deny everything that roared and rose inside of me.

And I wasn't prepared to do that.

So here's the truth:

Love.

I was feeling love.

I tilted my chin up, glancing up at her, and those emotions, those feelings, the sensation of her warmth, her softness, of Nova, swirled around me, and we might have leaned forward and kissed. We might have given in to the gravity that tugged at both of us, pulling us closer and closer until we had to collide...

But Nova leaned toward me, and her expression became pained as she leaned down, as there was an inevitably of her and I colliding...

But the heat of it all faded when she gently, tenderly, pressed her warm forehead to mine. I closed my eyes, lifted my chin, breathed her in.

And Nova murmured to me softly, with a frustrated groan: “we...”

We.

The most beautiful word.

But then:

“We're gonna be late,” Nova sighed, and that frustration stood out in every syllable of her words. She leaned back from me, and she searched my face, her brows furrowed, the pain reflecting in her eyes.

She didn't say anything. But then...she didn't have to.

We'd promised, after all. We were going to attend vampire church. Because life is sometimes stranger and unexpected than you can ever imagine.

And then later...

Later, we were going to collide.

Because, from the very beginning, I'd felt it, I'd felt everything leading to this. Nova and I were meant to collide. We had to. It was a universal law, with everything that pulled us together.

We were meant to collide.

Chapter 12: Church!

Nova and I walked down the old corridor, our feet moving over the old carpet, down the old halls, until we reached the inside sanctuary of that very old church.

This church had, of course, been built so long ago, that if it was a person, it would've been long dead. The building was at least a century, maybe a century and a half, old.

I'd thought a lot about the folks who must have built it since we'd come here, the stained glass artists, the masons, the architects and the workmen on their scaffolding. And I thought of all of them again as we entered the sanctuary, and my chin tilted up—because it was so impressive that of course I had to look up—up and up and up at the magnificent sacred space that rose around us.

So many folks had to be involved in the creation of this building, bringing it to life from simple pencil sketches on a piece of paper to the reality that surrounded us tonight. So many folks...

And maybe, just maybe, some of them had been vampires.

It wasn't outside of the realm of possibility. Werewolves and vampires have been around as long as—give or take—humans. That's my understanding, at least. So there'd been vampires around when this church had been built—and had some of them been involved in the construction of this church way back then? It was a cool thought. And, if they had been involved, could they have imagined that, someday, it would be a place, a sanctuary, for people just like them?

That it would be a church for their own kind?

It was impossible to know, of course, and probably no—if vampires had been involved in the construction of this church, they could never have fathomed that it'd be a church for vampires, one day.

But here we were. About to partake in a vampire ceremony or ritual or...whatever name they'd given it. We were about to partake of something very few humans had ever seen or could dream of.

I felt a little out of place and a lot excited. For one thing, Nova had given me her arm, I'd threaded mine through hers, and we'd walked that way—together—into the sanctuary. Body language was speaking, and it said: make way for the couple! Ahem. I was fairly happy about the direction we were heading in, and the thrum of anticipation was moving through me in pulses that kept rhythm with my heartbeat.

But all around us, there was something bigger ascending through the sanctuary. It wasn't just us, Nova and I, and our stories in this place. Though we existed here, it was true.

It was the sensation of feeling...connected.

I don't know how else to explain it. Though I'll try:

I'm not a religious person. I wouldn't even say I'm spiritual. I don't claim to have the world figured out, and I don't claim to know what happens after we die or if there's someone up there in the sky helping us all out...I just don't know. I'm keeping an open mind. I want to believe, yeah?

I want to believe.

I've never “felt” stuff in a spiritual sense. Like...I've never felt chills or gotten a good or bad vibe about things... I've felt desire, need, love, and I know there's those who would argue that love is, in and of itself, a spiritual ideal, but I'll leave that one up for debate.

But, tonight, there, in that chapel...

I felt something.

It was strong. I might even use the word “potent.” It was wending its way through the assembled folks who sat in the pews in the church—the sanctuary was, remarkably, almost completely full—and it was so powerful that, if I squinted, I could almost imagine I saw a light mist around the folks gathered here tonight.

Actually...I wouldn't be wrong about that. There was a mist flowing down from the altar at the end of the sanctuary...

I blinked.

“Fog machine,” whispered Nova into my ear. I blinked again and glanced up at her, eyes wide.

“You're joking,” I teased to her, grinning, but she shook her head, her brows raised.

“We're dealing with vampires here,” she said, and her mouth turned up at the corners as she chuckled into my ear. “They love theatrics.”

The warmth of her breath against my skin, the sound of that low, throaty chuckle, the depth and rhythm to it...oh, it almost made my toes curl with pleasure to hear it. I glanced up at her, and I wondered if she knew how my heart skipped a beat when she chuckled into my ear, how my blood began to pound louder, harder, faster, when she leaned against me, when her breath ran hot over my skin...

And as she glanced down at me now, her eyes darkening...

I knew she knew.

She knew what she did to me.

Someone, somewhere was playing rather melancholy organ music, but even over that, even over the hushed whispers and murmurs of the crowd in the pews, I heard it:

“Nova! Annie! Over here!”

I glanced toward one of the rows of pews, and seated there—in the very last row on the right—was Jax. She waved a hand to me in a sly, surreptitious way, though her grin was wide. Nova cleared her throat, straightened quickly—a little bit guilty, too, as if she'd just been caught with her hand in the cookie jar—and together, we walked over to Jax.

I glanced from her, up to the altar. “Wait a second—I'm confused,” I murmured to her as we slid into the pew beside her. “Aren't you going to lead the...the service?” I still didn't know what to call it.

Jax shrugged elegantly and put her arms up along the back of the pew so that her arm went around my shoulders went I sat down. It was Jax, me and then Nova in the pew—though the other pews were filled, almost tightly, with bodies, no one else had sat in this pew on the other side of Jax, where there was plenty of space. Odd.

“Eh, thought I'd let one of the whippersnappers perform this evening,” said Jax, giving me a wink, though she looked a little sad for a moment. “I'm really glad you came to the service, both of you—thank you.”

Nova didn't look at Jax, only stared straight ahead, her jaw tense, and I glanced at her sidelong, perplexed, before smiling back at Jax. “We wouldn't have missed it—thank you for inviting us,” I murmured to her, reaching out, taking her hand and squeezing it.

She always felt so cold to the touch, but tonight, she felt even colder. Jax leaned her shoulder against mine affectionately, then reached across my lap, took Nova's hand, and squeezed it, too. “All right, old friend?” she murmured to Nova.

Nova stared ahead for another, longer moment before she glanced sidelong at Jax. She nodded, though she wouldn't meet Jax's eyes.

That was odd, too. Maybe these church services made her uncomfortable? She must have gone to one or two of them when she was dating Jax...

I know, I know...your average, random person might be a little uncomfortable themselves by the situation: Jax and Nova had been together. But it was obvious—very obvious—that they were friends and nothing more. I believed Jax when she told me they weren't compatible. End of story. And I'm not the jealous type anyway...

But when Jax glanced sidelong at Nova, when Nova wouldn't meet her gaze...I felt a strange ripple across my skin.

Something felt...I know I keep saying it, but the only word I can think of is 'odd.' And, yes, I know that's not the most descriptive thing I could say, but that's really the only way I could put it into words. Something was going on, and there was just something in the air...something that put me ill at ease.

Jax gave me a sad smile and looked back up toward the altar.

And that's when I realized that something was happening.

A gradual hush descended over the audience, the murmurs and whispers fading away until there was nothing but the droning melancholy of the organ, the notes hovering in the air around us as heavy as the mist. The fog machine up on the altar was working overtime, and wave after atmospheric wave of the stuff billowed down into the audience, most of it lying low—I couldn't see Jax or Nova below the waist as they sat in the pew—but there was also a mist that hung in the air, too. There were big candelabras, all of them filled with sputtering, leaky candles, all of them lit, on the floor behind the big, squat table on the altar, and the podium that had been painted black, with purple symbols raised out of the wood. I assumed they had something to do with being a vampire, though I wasn't quite sure. They were spectacularly squiggly.

Everything was quiet, save for the organ music, but suddenly—as suddenly as a caught breath—the person playing that organ stopped. The last few notes rang out into silence, fading away in our ears as we all turned to look at the altar in silence.

Someone was walking up the center of the aisle. Several someones, actually. I hadn't noticed until right this moment, even though I was very close to the aisle, and when I noticed the shadows, I couldn't help myself—I jumped.

It was very dark in the sanctuary—there were the candelabras at the front, but apart from that, there was no light at all, not even dim running lights down the foot of the aisle. So shadows just suddenly appeared out of that darkness, and considering we were sitting in a church full of fake fog, and an organ had just been droning on in a very Halloween-y way, it was just hard not to jump. So...that's why I did it. I wasn't scared, mind you. Just startled.

Ahem.

There wasn't just one shadow stalking up the center of the sanctuary's aisle. Shadow after shadow followed the first one. It was so dark back here that I couldn't be absolutely certain, but...were they all wearing purple capes? (Don't ask me how I could tell they were purple in all this dark—purple just gives off its own sort of light.)

Once the first person reached the altar, they ascended and flung their cape off. That part, at least, I could make out because of all the burning candles. The cape was jettisoned toward the front row of pews, a little like we were at a rock concert, and then the person did a flourish with their hands, as if they just finished a very difficult gymnastics routine and were pretty proud of it. Their back was to me, and when they turned, the light was still too low to make out anything more than lots and lots of ruffles on a poet's shirt, tight pants (that may or may not have been leather) and long, wavy hair.

Whoever they were, they were very pretty, and they gestured at the others who came off, flung off their cloaks and made similar dramatic “ah ha, we're here!” gestures before turning and lining up in a row along the back of the altar.

The final one came a little bit later than the others, and this one was shorter than the rest. It's not that the other folks on the altar were similar looking...though they were. They just seemed to be part of a retinue for a leader who would soon join them. I'm not quite sure why I got that impression, but I had it, even before they all descended down to one knee, holding up their right hand toward the shadow that slowly—carefully—walked up the center of the aisle after them. Alone.

This person did not take off their cloak. A hush, even richer and fuller than the one that had been covering the church, descended now, and everything seemed close and quiet, as if velvet had been dropped around all of us, cocooning us in soft blackness.

The person in the cloak ascended the altar. There were three steps leading up to the altar proper, and they took them one at a time, almost like a bride might on her wedding day. There was an innate rhythm to this person's movements, as if there was a soft, sibilant song playing somewhere, but only they could hear it.

They moved like they were dancing.

Now, maybe in a room with proper lighting, a room that didn't have a fog machine working overtime for atmosphere...maybe a person in a cloak moving rhythmically, their body, even through the fabric of the cloak, undulating...maybe that wouldn't have been beautiful. Maybe it would have just looked weird—and I'm not saying it didn't look strange, because it did.

But I could also see the beauty of it, too, this stranger dancing to silence, making their way up the center of the aisle, blackness and darkness all around them, only the depth of their shadow showing the movements...

There was beauty in that.

Gradually, so gradually that—for a heartbeat or two—I was wondering if I was imagining it, I began to hear music again. It wasn't the droning tones of the organ anymore. Instead, the organ had been replaced by a... I cocked my head, listened harder, blinked.

A voice.

A human voice was making that sound.

It was a soft, almost aria-like note of song, and it twisted and turned like a butterfly flapping its wings and darting here and there, without meaning...at least, so I thought at first. Just as gradually as I'd become aware of the music, I became aware of the melody of it, too. It wasn't a song I was familiar with, but there was a melody there all the same.

Just like there was a rhythm to the dancer's movements, there came a rhythm to the music, too.

And I saw them blend together before my eyes.

A person dancing to music...it's the most human thing I can think of. Humans have been dancing in celebration since we became human. But as the person ascended the steps, slowly, slowly, as the cloak fell back from her shoulders, over her arms, down her back and descended to a black puddle on the floor, I knew that was no human I watched on the altar now.

She was a vampire.

And as she turned and took in the audience, I realized that she wasn't beautiful, not in the generic sense of the word, and I found that interesting. Every vampire I'd had the pleasure to meet had a sort of other-worldly beauty that drew you in, just like any predator.

No, this woman wasn't beautiful as she stood, arms spread, gazing out at the audience—but it was something you didn't really notice. She had a narrow, thin nose that seemed too small for her face, and large, expressive blue eyes. Long, blonde hair descended around her shoulders in graceful waves, and her skin had a yellow tint to it, for all it looked incredibly cold. Her lips were thin, she wore no smile, but when she looked out into the crowd, there was a kindness to her eyes, a kind of sympathy, as if she shared something lovely and secret with all of us.

You don't have to be outwardly attractive to be so beautiful that the stars envy you. Beauty like that comes from within.

I knew, just by looking at her, that this woman's heart was lovely beyond compare.

“That's Angel,” sighed Jax into my ear, then. When I glanced at her, her face was so sad that it startled me. It was, of course, hard to see in this darkness, but over the time of living in Sanguis Ecclesia, I'd become very familiar with Jax, and I think that made her features a little easier to discern than a complete stranger's. My heart fell when I saw the sorrow in her expression...

Honestly, I'd never seen Jax look like that.

“Angel?” I repeated questioningly. Jax had just said the woman's name, and had then trailed off, gazing wistfully up at the altar. Up at the mesmerizing woman who stood there.

“Angel,” Jax whispered, sighing, then glanced my way. “She's a very good minister. We used to...we used to...” She repeated, trailing off.

I didn't need to have any explanation after that.

I knew.

They used to be together.

And something had happened, and now they were no longer together...the two had fallen apart. And this was, very apparently, something that was hard for Jax.

My heart broke to see her so sad, and I reached across the little space between us, took her hand and squeezed it.

Jax was always so cold to the touch—vampire, of course—but today, she seemed even colder. Maybe it was because I was a little chilled, too—the church wasn't exactly well heated. But Jax glanced my way, surprised by my touch, her brows up, before she gave me a little smile and squeezed my hand. She let it go, gazing back up to the altar.

Nova watched both of us with hooded eyes, not saying a word as I settled against her, then, leaning against her strong frame.

Nova wrapped one warm arm about my shoulders, and I should have been surprised by how well we fit together, Nova and I. I should have been surprised by how easily I curved against her, how we fit, our bodies, those curves, blending perfectly in an almost seamless merging.

It was beautiful.

She was beautiful.

There was so much energy in this place—I could feel it building, could feel the magic of the sanctuary, the anticipation of the folks gathered together, could feel the crackling of possibility that moved among us. All of us.

That single voice, the melodic tone that rose and fell around us, was joined by another. And another. And another.

I finally understood that it was the folks gathered on the altar's platform who were singing. It was wordless, their mouths shaped into an “o” as melody poured from it, as the melody rose and fell like a bird flapping fitful wings, learning their own strength. The melody seemed to chase itself in every widening spirals, and I realized the folks on the platform were singing in harmony...

It was a gradual upswell, something slow and measured, but as moments passed, as the melody grew louder and louder around us, I knew that everyone was singing.

I didn't particularly know the song they were performing, couldn't follow the melody, didn't remotely know how to sing it in harmony, but when everyone around us stood then, I stood, too, and Nova wrapped her arm about my shoulders, squeezing me gently before she stood simply beside me and held me. I wrapped an arm about her waist, too, and the two of us stood together, stood with Jax, stood with all of the folks who had gathered together here, who had come to be together here.

And together we were.

Somewhere, within the impossibly lovely combination of everyone's voices (no offense to anyone intended, but not everyone is a good singer, and in the few church services I'd been to, over the years, I'd definitely heard my fair share of American Idol auditions gone wrong. That's okay—they were certainly trying, and that's what counted. But everyone here, impossibly, knew how to carry a tune and do it well. Vampires, man. Vampires.), there rose a deep, thrumming bass beat. It was the sound of a drum, of someone beating it rhythmically and with passion. It started small, that drum beat, and then began to grow...

And others joined in.

Along the edges of the room, on the aisles on either side of the rows of pews, along the walls, came the sound of instruments, then. Light began to glow along the floor of the aisles from the run lights I knew must have been there, and I could see folks standing in a straight line along the walls, each on a different instrument. There were violinists and oboe players, flutists and clarinet players, those percussionists on their drums and, almost at the front of the room, on the right, a woman seated at a harp (that had been painted black, because of course), playing her heart out as her fingers danced over the strings.

I hadn't noticed before, but at the very front of the sanctuary, between the rows of pews and the dais of the altar, there was some space. Not a lot of it—maybe ten feet or so before the altar—but what it lacked in depth, it made up for in width, for this empty space was as wide as the sanctuary itself.

The woman at the front of the sanctuary, who'd danced her way elegantly up that center aisle, had not said a word at this point. Her body continued to sway along with the melody and rhythms from the voices and the instruments, but she didn't speak. She only raised her hands, then, and the first few folks in the first few rows came out from their pews. They did so by moving along with the rhythms, kind of a walk-dancing that you might see in rec halls and from grandparents at weddings, but once they got out onto the floor itself, that empty space at the front of the sanctuary, they really started to dance.

Row after row of pews emptied themselves of people into the center aisle, and row after row of these people ascended the aisle up to what was fast becoming a dance party. The music had picked up in tempo, the voices were rising, too, and by the time the second to last row in front of us emptied out into the aisle, I could feel the rhythm of the music in my blood.

I glanced up at Nova, and I knew that she felt it, too. This wasn't any ordinary song, this was a song we were all creating, together. I'm not the best singer, but I was able to follow along with the melody now, and I was actually humming along, tapping my toe on the floor and moving my hips from side to side, because the music was so joyful, I couldn't help but move my body to it.

Nova put her hands on my waist and, together, we pooled out of the pew and into the aisle. Together, our bodies moving in collaboration, we ascended the aisle.

Nova's palms were hot where they curved at my waist, her breath was hot against the skin of my neck as she leaned against me, as she pressed the weight of her body against my own. And there was weight to her, because there was weight to this moment: I felt it, felt it as surely as I felt the solidity of the floor beneath the soles of my shoes, felt it like the air filling my lungs, as the music filling my ears, as the joy caught inside of me, as it began to rise.

I was here tonight with Nova. Here, tonight, we moved together, we came together.

And it was so right.

It was so good.

There was a chill in the air that rose with the music, which you wouldn't have expected in a crowd of folks dancing. But there were a lot of vampires assembled here, and the chill they were putting off from their cold skin kept the area cool, instead of hot and sweaty.

So we danced together, and there weren't any of the completely human notions of getting overheated and dripping. There was nothing but the heat of Nova, contrasting with the coolness of those folks dancing around us. There was nothing but the soaring music, the deep thrum and vibration of the drumming, the sharp, harmonic notes of the flutes and higher instruments, combining with throats raised full in song.

There was music, and there was rhythm and there was the joy of everyone else dancing around us, and I noticed all of it, I did, but it seemed so far away to me.

Because, gradually, everything else faded away...

Everything else, save for this:

Me and Nova. The two of us.

And nothing else besides.

When you see a sunset over the edge of the sea, everything that you are focuses on it. You turn to the sunset because it has a gravity of beauty that calls to you, pulling you in. The same thing with a perfect symphony or song, a perfect piece of art...anything of beauty that calls to you pulls you in because a thing of beauty has power.

And Nova had power as she moved beside me, against me, with me. She pressed against me, her limbs entwining with mine, her front pressed hard against my own, the curves of her body, the solidity of her muscles, the rhythm of her bones moving with all of mine so that when her fingers moved through my own, when her mouth found the curve where my neck meets my shoulder, when her tongue laved against my skin there...

We merged.

I hissed out against her in pleasure, because I wasn't expecting her mouth against my neck, wasn't expecting her fingertips to find the hem of the skirt of my dress. It was that lovely black number I thought would be acceptable for church (thinking of a few hours ago and what I thought “church” might entail, I was pretty much chuckling at myself now), and it was definitely church appropriate, don't get me wrong, but it also had a very short skirt. Nova bent now, her mouth against my shoulder, and her fingertips found that hem...

And the skin of my thigh.

I wrapped my arms about her shoulders and sighed out against Nova as her burning fingertips raked a path over my skin, up my thigh. She kept her hands and their hot palms on the outsides of my legs, but I was almost delirious with need as I leaned against her, as everyone danced around us in the dark, the candles burning, my want rising inside of me...

We were in the dark, and we were together. And it should have been enough.

But it wasn't.

I wanted more.

I needed more.

I took her hands in mine, removed her burning palms from my skin, and I pulled her back down the center aisle of the church. There were folks in the pews, and I could hardly make them out, even with the lights along the floor, but what I did make out was bodies moving together. The metallic tang of blood was in the air, and I remembered Jax telling me about people who gave their blood willingly to vampires, out of love. There were soft sighs, other hisses of pleasure, moans, and as I pulled Nova out of the sanctuary, I knew were were leaving a place of love.

I didn't see Jax when we left, though I looked for her. Admittedly, I was a little distracted, but I hoped that, in the dark, she found someone to love her as much as she deserved.

I hoped.

Chapter 13: Yes!

“Do you want—”

“Shut up and kiss me,” I growled to Nova, and I pushed the door shut behind us (after we let Sunny out into the living quarters—my dog dejectedly waddled out there, because she is a Very Good Dog).

And that's all the urging Nova needed.

She pushed me up against the wall like we were falling against it. My shoulder blades and ass ground into the old wallpaper, as she pressed me there, her fingertips already up and under the hem of my dress's skirt, her hands already hot against my skin, everything about her roaring with the same need I felt, that was pouring through my blood, my blood that beat a tempo almost too fast to follow...

But I followed it.

My head fell back against the wall as Nova's mouth fell to my neck again, as my fingers found the buttons of the shirt beneath her suit jacket. I pulled the jacket down and over her shoulders and arms and tossed it to the ground, and my fingers undid those damn buttons, traveling down and over the soft curve of her breastbone, down to the hard lines of her belly's muscles.

I tugged the shirt up and out of the waistband of her suit pants, and then the shirt was undone, and that, too, I pulled down over her muscled shoulders, over her muscled arms, down and down until it was falling to the floor at our feet, surrendering to my need.

Beneath the suit jacket and shirt, Nova wore only a plain, cream-colored breastband that curved over and flattened her breasts a little, though it wasn't very tight when my fingertips traveled up and over her stomach to the band, pushing up and under it.

Nova growled in frustration at this last, lingering bit of cloth between her skin and the frosty air of the room (I kept the AC turned up pretty high because Nova always ran so hot, which put me in sweaters, but come on...did I really mind that?). She reached up on either side of her torso, sliding her own fingers under the band, pulling it up and over her head, over the soft waves of her hair, tossing it on the floor almost in disgust at how long it'd remained on her in a moment where she needed, very much, to be rid of it.

My fingers found the button of her suit pants by touch alone, because then Nova was pressing me up against the wall a little harder, with a little more force, and my breath hissed out of my mouth as she pushed her fingers up under the skirt, her fingertips seeking—and finding—the lace edges of my panties.

Nova growled with delight, with want, with need, with desire both savage and fierce, the wolf rising in her as she pushed her fingers up and under the lace edges, tracing them over my center, her thumb brushing over my clit...my center was sopping wet, my clit hard against her skin, all of me open with a need that made me sigh in the dark. We hadn't bothered to turn on the lights.

We could move by touch alone.

And so we did.

The feeling of my wetness, slick over her fingertips, drew another growl from my wolf's chest as she panted against me, leaning her forehead against my shoulder.

“I need you,” she told me, three words that made a music of their own, a thrill rippling over my skin, inside of me, making my pulse and breath dance at a faster timing, staccato, all of it.

“Yes,” I told her, and I told her that single word again when she slid her palms behind my thighs, drawing my legs up and around her waist as she lifted me from the ground and against her. I told her “yes!” again, when she turned and made her way, carrying me, cradling me, to the bed. I told her “yes” again as she pushed me down onto the comforter, my legs spread wide and tight around her, literally all that I was open and inviting to her.

And so she came inside.

Arching over me, Nova rose like the moon. Her fingers were spread, curling tightly into the comforter by the side of my head, as—with her other hand—she pulled my panties down, over my hips and thighs, letting them pool around one of my ankles after she'd tugged it fully off of one leg. The offending garment was gone from where she needed it to be gone, and so it was forgotten, pooling over the arch of my foot as Nova pressed her hips, still clad in pants, between my legs, as she dragged her short fingernails up and over the skin of my thigh.

There was no lingering, no preamble, no prelude. Her fingertips dragged hotly over the skin of my thigh, rising, rising, until she found what she needed, and she pushed two fingers inside of me with the same rhythm she did everything else: sublime.

“Oh, my God,” I whispered to the air as my head pushed back into the bed, as my back arched, as my hips ground into the mattress, as I found myself trying to open wider, further for her. My fingers curled into the comforter, too, but one arm was slung about her shoulders, because I needed to steady myself against her.

She was my anchor.

Nova's eyes glittered in the dark, her mouth open as she panted, staring down at me. I opened my mouth, too, tilting my chin up, and then our mouths met, because there is always an eventuality to these things.

Love is eventual.

I groaned against her, her fingers curling and moving inside of me, in and out like the most perfect beat of the universe. My own fingers found the waistband of her pants, worried at the buttons, at the zipper, worried at the band of it around her hips, an obstacle to what I needed.

But she knew what I needed, knew without any words. Wolves speak without words, after all, and so did my wolf as she leaned up on her knees, her fingers still inside of me as she worked at the waistband of her own pants with her other hand. Together, we got them and her black panties down to her knees, and then her ankles, and that was enough as she lowered her hips against the base of her wrist, using her hips to grind against her hand as she pushed deeper, harder inside of me. She pulled her fingers in and out of me, as she moved over me, as I moved beneath her...

As we moved together.

Her thumb was hard and unyielding against my clit, moving in circles, in commanding rhythms that my body had never felt before, simply was not prepared for. My other lovers had been slow and steady, orgasms were things that rose in me from careful, calculated precision on their part. It was always good, if not spectacularly memorable.

I doubted, highly, that I would ever forget this.

Nova was drawing pleasure out of me as if she'd created the feeling herself, building it from every good or glad or joyous moment of my life, making it slick with sex and then giving it to me wordlessly in a kiss. When I came, it was sudden and unexpected, the orgasm pouring into me as if I was a vessel that had simply never been filled before.

Not until her.

Wave after wave of pleasure beat against me, inside of me, and all I could do was ride it out, wrapping my arms around her as if she could hold me from being tossed out to sea...and of course she could. Nova rose over me, drawing pleasure from me wordlessly, her eyes glittering with desire, glittering with love as she gazed down at me.

She was hiding it no longer.

I saw it, and clearly.

Nova looked at me with love.

I told her “yes,” because I wanted her to know how much I needed her, but I realized, after I came, that in the midst of all of it, I'd uttered that word again, the “yes” reverberating throughout the entire room, as if the walls themselves would remember it.

And maybe they would.

I didn't need to say anything else, though, as I pulled Nova down on top of me, as her fingers, slick with my need, pulled from me, grasping my thigh and making my skin shine as she pressed her mouth against my own.

I am not as wild as a wolf, but there is a wilderness inside all of us, and it grew as she kissed me, as her tongue entered my mouth, as I tasted her and she tasted me. She was hot against me, her lips were hot, her tongue, every movement against me and inside of me was built entirely from heat, and there was not a single atom of my body that did not respond to that.

I wrapped my arms about her, encircled her as she circled me.

And we moved together, just like that.

Chapter 14: Secrets!

I can't find Jax anywhere.

I don't mean to be hyperbolic, but I looked in all of the usual places, and—honestly—she's just nowhere to be found. I roamed through all of the usual places, Jax's priest quarters, the study, the little basement kitchen of the church, the sanctuary...

The church is simply empty.

In the sanctuary, I paused, my palms pressed along the back of a pew, to take in the damage from last night. I'm assuming that most churches don't look like a raucous party took place there, the day after a service.

Most churches, anyway.

Because here, at Sanguis Ecclesia, the sanctuary appeared to show signs of a mini hurricane having blown through at top speed, and at maximum power. There were pews pushed up along the walls, beneath the stained glass, rather than in their neat rows, though the vast majority of them were still in neat rows, so the place just looked messy. There were small, red cups that had red stained inside of them, and when I picked one up and sniffed it, I knew it had contained wine last night...

But the second one had absolutely held blood. It was congealed in the bottom, and it was very, very gross.

I set the cup back down on the ground quickly, paling just a little.

There was glitter on the floor in small piles and in trails, as if several folks had been wearing glitter and had left dotted lines on the floor where they'd traversed all night, which was fairly endearing. The cloaks that had been thrown onto the floor the night before remained where they lay. The candles in their candelabras had all burned down to nothing, and there was globs of wax at the foot of every candle holder and candelabra in large, misshapen lumps.

I paused and surveyed the silent sanctuary. Oh, it wasn't perfectly silent. When I stood still, I could hear the general hum and melee of the city of Pittsburgh in the distance, but it was all so far away from this quiet space, a low grumble of the city where nothing was distinct, and it was so very easy to tune out. I loved the heartbeat of my city, loved the way it moved and grew and breathed and lived...

But, sometimes, you need some quiet. You need some peace.

I sat down on the very first pew I found that wasn't littered with cups or glitter or cloaks or any of the other things the vampires and humans had thrown around in the midst of their celebrations. I sat on the edge of the old, worn wooden pew, and I curled my palms around the edge of the seat, glancing down at my legs, beneath the skirt's material, settling against the wood.

This pew was so old. Over a hundred years had passed since hands had fashioned it from simple, plain boards into something of beauty that held folks effortlessly. So very many folks, over the years. This pew had seen so many things, held so many people, been through so much. I wrapped my fingers around the edge of the seat and sighed as I glanced up at the stained glass windows, ascending brightly around me.

I thought about last night.

It was difficult, of course, to put into words or sentiments how I felt about last night, because...that was just the thing. I felt things about last night. Sometimes, it's impossible to describe how you feel adequately. At least, I get that way sometimes. I feel so much, and it's all so big in my heart, all of that rush of emotion, and no matter how hard I try, I can't explain it to someone else.

But I'll try. I'll always try.

So...Nova and I had sex last night. A lot of sex. And it was...really good. That's the short list of events from last night, right? Nova and I came together, we finally came together, and it was incredible, more incredible than I could have possibly ever hoped for.

But, if you move past the list of “events that happened,” and you just talk about last night...well.

At the very base of everything, everything, was the love that moved through me toward Nova. And, in turn, the love that Nova felt for me.

We were falling in love, the two of us.

And that was so...so extraordinary and profound that words simply fail. All I could do was sit there and allow the emotions to move through me.

All I could do was love.

But I'd been looking for Jax, simply because I needed to talk to someone about all of it, even if I couldn't put it into words...I so badly wanted to try. I needed to talk to someone, someone who wasn't Nova. In all my time in this place, I've come to think of Jax as a friend, and right now, I needed a friend badly.

As I stared up at the stained glass windows, a small bit of worry began to tug at the edges of my heart. Because, in my big love bubble, I'd forgotten how Jax was acting last night...she'd been behaving a little strangely, now that I thought about it.

Maybe she hadn't felt well? Maybe it was simply upsetting for her to see her ex...not Nova. But Angel, the woman who'd led the ceremony last night.

Jax had, very obviously, loved Angel fiercely once...

As if my mere thoughts summoned her, there was a clearing of a throat at the front of the sanctuary, and I glanced up in surprise.

And there she was: Angel.

The slight vampire stood in the doorway that led to the parson's quarters behind the altar, and when she saw I'd noticed her appearance, she nodded to me before prowling up and onto the altar.

“Good morning,” she told me with a small smile before leaning down to pick up a black cloak. She shook it out, glitter flying in all directions within the sunbeams that poured through the stained glass. She coughed a little, brow raised, before she placed the cloak over her arm and turned to me. “Did you enjoy the service last night?”

I nodded, watching her as she set the cloak over the edge of the lectern, then began to methodically pick up each one, shake out the glitter, fold them and stack them on top of the first one.

If you'd seen Angel on the sidewalk in downtown Pittsburgh this morning, the word “vampire” would have been the farthest thing from your mind. She was dressed in gym clothes, a tight athletic jacket that was an eye-blinding shade of florescent pink, along with black leggings and running shoes. Her long, blonde hair was on the top of her head in an overflowing, messy bun, and sunglasses were shoved up onto her head. She wore eye makeup and lip gloss and looked pretty put together after the evening's adventures.

If I'd glimpsed her on the street, I honestly might have thought she was a soccer mom, and not, you know, a vampire. That was a weird realization.

Angel gave me a little smile, once all the cloaks were up and off the floor, and smoothed her palms on the stack of them on the lectern. “Good, I'm glad you enjoyed it. I hope you'll excuse me, I've got a lot of preparation for the next service. I like to start planning them the morning after the previous one. Helps me keep things fresh in my head.” She gave me a wink, and—leaving the stack of cloaks where she'd put them—she walked down the center aisle, sliding her hands into the pockets of her workout pants and beginning to whistle something that sounded very familiar to me—probably because it'd been used last night somewhere in the service or ceremony or...

I blinked, straightening a little. “Actually, Angel?” I turned, glancing at her. “Do you know where Jax is? I haven't been able to find her all morning and I wanted to talk to her.”

Angel paused in her stride, her back to me. She paused, for a long moment, still, and then she turned.

She stared at me.

She stared at me so long, in fact, and with such wide eyes, that I was a little unnerved by it, and shifted my weight in the pew uncomfortably.

What in the world had I said to be so offensive?

After a long moment, finally, she murmured: “what?”

There was an edge in her tone.

“I'm...I'm sorry to bother you,” I mumbled, but Angel was striding toward me now, her brows furrowed, her gaze piercing and sharper than anything you'd want to see on a vampire.

“No. What did you ask?” She was standing next to me now, and she towered over me not because she was tall, but because I was seated...which was still astonishingly menacing as she glared down at me...

I glanced up at her in surprise, but then I blinked.

There wasn't just menace on her face...

There was pain.

There were actual tears in her eyes that she dashed away with the back of her hand as she glared down at me, grinding her teeth together. “What,” she growled again, “did you say?”

“I'm so sorry—” I began, but she shook her head. I cleared my throat. “I just asked if you knew where Jax was?”

I was the worst. I felt so damn horrible in that moment. I guess their breakup had been a lot more difficult than Jax had let on...

At least, I thought that until Angel sat down next to me, her knees sagging, all of her sagging as she leaned forward, placing her elbows on her knees, and then her chin in her hands as she stared straight ahead at the altar before us. She stared, and she was silent, her eyes wide, pain emanating from her in jagged, broken waves.

Finally, she breathed out.

“You know,” Angel spoke the words carefully, “we just ask that folks be kind. We don't have a lot of tenets to what we believe, but kindness is so important.” She glanced sidelong at me again, her eyes glittering with unshed tears. “That wasn't very kind of you.”

I spread my hands, spluttering.

I didn't know what to say.

I didn't know what to do.

“I'm...I'm so sorry,” I finally mumbled, shocked at her reaction, shocked by pretty much all of this. I stood quickly. “I'm so sorry,” I repeated, and I went to move past her, but Angel's hand reached up so quickly it was just a blur, and then her cold fingers were curling around my wrist.

I stopped.

“Why would you ask me something like that?” whispered Angel. I glanced down at her, and when she looked up at me, my mouth fell open, and I forgot to breathe.

Her eyes were no longer filled with tears—they were now cascading down her cheeks, trailing one after the other, tears that shone starkly on her pale skin, almost glittering in the multi-colored light that filtered through the stained glass.

“I'm so sorry—” I began again, but she shook her head, sniffling, letting me go. She stood, too, and she glanced at me, eyes still glittering.

“It costs nothing to be kind to someone,” she murmured. “I loved Jax more than anything...more than...” She trailed off, taking a deep breath. “I never used a term like this before her, but I know she was my true love. And now that she's gone, I will never experience that again. My heart is broken. I don't know why you'd be so cruel, but your words...they hurt me, deeply.” Her eyes glittered with tears. “Acting like she's still around...that's just such a sick joke.”

I stared at her.

She stared at me.

I blinked.

“Um...I'm sorry...” I stammered. “...Gone?”

Angel continued to stare at me, but now her brow was furrowed, and she seemed uncertain as she gazed at me.

She shook her head.

“I...don't know if we're on the same page,” I murmured carefully.

“I...don't think we are,” she replied, unsure.

Angel wiped the tears off her cheeks and nodded, but she didn't look at me. Instead, she turned, and—gesturing over her shoulder to make certain I followed her—she strode out of the sanctuary, toward the pastor's quarters and the back hallway behind the altar.

Mystified, I followed her.

Twisting corridor after corridor led back around to the side entrance of the church that opened up out onto the parking lot. I followed Angel out into the lot, folding my arms in front of me as the door shut behind us.

The distant traffic sounds hardly broke the silence here, because we were so enclosed by the buildings on all sides. I was very familiar with this area, because this is where I always came to let Sunny out for her walks, and this is where Jax always came to smoke. And where we both met to talk.

Angel, again, gestured for me to follow her. She continued walking around the side of the church, toward the driveway that led us from the parking lot out onto the road in front of Sanguis Ecclesia.

I was a little concerned, only because Nova was always worried about keeping me inside and out of sight—“no one” was supposed to know remotely where I was. I hadn't gone out of the parking lot since we'd arrived here.

But Angel had disappeared around the corner, and she'd clearly wanted me to follow her.

And I'd just caused her quite a large amount of discomfort...

I didn't know what else to do.

So I took a step forward, and then another, anxiety making my heart rise into my throat.

I followed her.

When Nova and I came to Sanguis Ecclesia, now well over a month ago, it had—of course—been in the middle of the night that we'd arrived. There weren't that many streetlamps active in this part of town, and I just hadn't gotten that good of a look at the front of the church, or where it was positioned on the street, because it'd been just too dark. I remembered the stained glass, and that was about it.

But, now, the morning light—though obscured a little by a cloudy sky—shone down on the front of the building beautifully. Even on the outside, even with no illumination from within the sanctuary, it was very obvious that the stained glass windows were breathtaking. I couldn't help but stare up and up at them, raising my eyes to the towers of the church, to the gorgeous architecture of the place of worship where I'd been living the past little while...

But Angel drew my eyes back down to earth again as she paused before a small iron gate on the other side of the building from the parking lot. This gate stood about hip-height for her, and it was flanked on either side by old, rotting wooden fence slats.

Angel pulled the gate open and gestured for me to walk into the graveyard with her.

For that's what existed on the other side of the church in a city lot...

A cemetery.

“This graveyard was here before the church was built,” said Angel stiffly, gesturing to the granite monuments that dotted the landscape. They all looked strikingly old and worn to me, a lot of the letters and numbers so worn away by rain that they were too blurred to read anymore. “The previous church building burned down, and then they rebuilt it to what you see here.” She gestured up to Sanguis Ecclesia. Angel didn't explain why the first church had burned down, and I didn't ask as she walked down the little flagstone pathway between the tightly spaced rows of headstones.

The very first thing that struck me about this place—after realizing how old the grave markers must be—was how tightly packed in they were...kinda like the proverbial sardines. But if the cemetery had existed here for so long, they would have probably wanted to conserve space, since it was at such a premium in an up and coming city like Pittsburgh, way back when.

Angel prowled down the center aisle of the cemetery, and then she stopped abruptly—so abruptly that I almost ran into her. I stopped on a dime, almost—but not quite—slamming into her back. Once I got my bearings, I followed her line of sight, glancing off to the right.

And I stared.

The headstone wasn't one of the taller ones. In fact, it was quite modest compared to the others surrounding it, and—I realized—modern. Brand new, almost. The slab of granite had been stuck in between two very old headstones, so the modernity of it was that much more obvious, the grave markers on either side bearing lichens and moss, and time and storms having worn the letters and dates down to a sort of softness.

Here, on this new headstone, every word was bright and stark, as if it had been carved yesterday.

Well, not yesterday, but kinda close. I glanced at the “death” date and blinked. Only three years ago.

But it wasn't the date that really drew my gaze just then.

It was the name.

Jax Pennell, Priest, Beloved, Friend to all.

I stared at that name, and everything sort of fell away from me. There was a rushing, roaring sound in my ears, and I forgot to breathe for a minute, the totality of realization building like a tsunami inside of me as my heart stuttered in my chest.

Jax...wasn't exactly a common name.

Was this...was this Jax? The woman I'd come to think of as a friend, these past few weeks?

Was this...our Jax?

I turned to glance at Angel, who was staring at me with tears still brightly shining in her eyes, and I didn't know what to say. What could I say?

I knew.

This was Jax.

But...but how? She'd been dead, but I'd been able to see her?

That meant she'd have to have been...

A ghost.

There was a soft noise, like the shush of fabric against skin...

And I turned to look back at the grave.

Jax was there, standing behind the headstone, her expression grim and sad and hopeless, all at once. I'd never seen her look like that before.

We stared at one another, and Jax's eyes...they possessed the same sadness from last night...

But, this time, in the bright daylight, it seemed that...

Were my eyes playing tricks on me?

Because it seemed that Jax was the least, tiniest bit...

Well. She looked like a shadow of the person I knew.

She looked like...a ghost.

Jax reached up, and she pressed a finger over her lips, shaking her head sadly before she glanced to look at Angel.

And her expression...God. It was enough to break my heart.

Angel was staring straight at the grave, and she made no indication of being able to see Jax. With Jax's finger against her mouth in the universal “sh” gesture, I put it together quickly.

Angel could not see Jax.

“I'm...I'm sorry,” I repeated to Angel, stumbling over the words because I was sorry. So damn sorry. No matter what was actually going on, the truth of the matter was that I was so, so sorry for Angel. I'd hurt her, and I hated that I'd done this. Angel stared down at the ground, not saying anything, and then she nodded, almost distractedly, before wrapping her arms around herself.

“Why did you play such an awful prank on me?” Angel asked quietly then, looking up at me. In her eyes shone unshed tears, and when I glanced back at the grave marker, back to Jax, she shook her head emphatically.

I didn't know what to do.

So, again, I just shook my head. I whispered: “I'm so sorry.”

For a long moment, Angel did nothing. But then, she nodded once, twice, woodenly. And, head bent, she made her way slowly, down the center aisle of the cemetery, her arms wrapped tightly about herself. She went back inside of the church.

And I was left alone with the headstones, Jax's headstone...

And Jax herself.

I stared at the vampire, and she stared back at me with her soft, sad eyes.

There was a very long, drawn out, uncomfortable moment of silence, because I think we both knew that the situation we now found ourselves in...well, it wasn't exactly normal.

The thing was, I didn't know what to say, so after considering my choices, I went with the particularly eloquent: “what the hell, Jax?” I spread my hands, shook my head. My voice was shaking too much, so I cleared my throat. I lifted my chin, tried again: “Jax...what's going on?”

Jax didn't speak for a little while. She didn't meet my gaze, her eyes downcast as she fumbled in the back pockets of her black slacks. She drew out her silver cigarette case and her lighter, holding tightly to them like they were sacred objects. Jax lit up nimbly, taking a deep inhale of the stuff before flicking the ash off the end of the cigarette.

“They don't...taste as good as they used to,” said Jax with a sigh, and her eyes met mine. “Nothing does when you're dead.”

I said nothing. I only watched her.

I waited.

And then Jax said softly, quietly, as her long fingers brushed along the top of the granite: “this is my grave.”

Life prepares you for a hell of a lot of situations.

But...not this one.

I sagged where I stood, staring down at the grave bleakly. I felt gutted, felt like a friend of mine had just died...

And, I suppose...that wasn't far from the truth.

“You're...dead,” I hazarded, and Jax nodded, taking another deep drag from the cigarette, and blowing the transparent smoke into the air.

Had the smoke from Jax's cigarettes always been this transparent? Had she always been this transparent? I felt my eyes had been playing tricks on me, and I wasn't sure what to think as Jax kicked her headstone gently with a shiny black shoe and came out on the cemetery path to stand beside me, looking down at the headstone.

We stared down at that headstone together.

“Are...vampires already dead...?” I trailed off, because I realized I'd probably said something ignorant. I sort of knew that vampires weren't really dead, that they were just a different kind of people than humans, but I wasn't entirely sure. Old stories die hard, I guess.

I was so confused as I glanced sidelong at my friend, my ghost friend, my friend who was very-much-not-alive. Jax stared down at her headstone, her mouth set in a fierce, downward curve of a frown.

“Vampires are alive,” she told me quietly. “And it's hard to kill us, but we can be killed. I was killed.” She took another deep draft of the cigarette. “I don't know why I'm still here. But I've been here since the day I died. I'm stuck here, at the church...I can't really leave it, or walk far away from it...I just can't. It's like I'm walking into a wall.” She flicked the ash off her cigarette and shrugged, though her shoulders were tense, her entire body rigid with tension. “So I wander around the church, my cigarette case is never empty, nothing is ever...satisfying. And no one in the world can see me. But Nova.” She glanced sidelong at me again, one brow raised. “And you.”

There were a hell of a lot of questions I could have followed that up with, a burning one took center focus. I frowned at her. “Wait...why can I see you?”

Jax shrugged. “Why am I a ghost? I don't claim to know how any of this works. I figured that Nova could see me because we really were close, once. But, I figured you could see me because of how close you are with Nova.”

I blushed at that, staring hard down at the grave, hard enough to bore a tiny hole into the granite, though no such hole spontaneously appeared. I cleared my throat. “You forget,” I muttered, “I wasn't that close with Nova when we first came here.”

Jax didn't say anything for a minute, and she didn't look at me, either.

We both just gazed down at her headstone.

Until:

“You were always close,” she murmured. “It was obvious. Right from the start.”

I didn't know what to say, though my heart was thundering with a beat that my body almost couldn't contain, blood rushing through my veins at unheard of speeds. I felt faint as I gazed down at the impossible gravestone.

My heart hurt, as much as it soared.

How could my friend be...dead? It didn't seem...

“It's not really fair,” said Jax softly, reasonably, “but it is what it is. I get to stay here, and I get to look after Angel. And that's what really matters. I wish she could see me, but she can't. And every day, I feel like I'm fading away, just a little.”

I did look at her now, and I gazed at her in alarm. “What do you mean, 'fading away?'”

Jax gave me a little shrug, and then she sat down easily onto her grave, curling her legs in front of her on the grass as she leaned back against the granite, gazing up at the sky and its moody clouds with unseeing eyes.

“I've been doing a lot of reading since becoming a ghost,” said Jax dryly, taking a long inhale of her cigarette and blowing the smoke out through her nose with frustration, “and I've read pretty much everything I could get my hands on on being a ghost. I have no idea how this works, what the rules are, but something I kept coming across was the fact that, apparently, 'something big' keeps me here, on earth.” She made air quotes with her fingers and rolled her eyes, as if she didn't half believe it herself. “I was thoroughly convinced that I was kept here for something having to do with Angel, because...I really thought we had it.” She glanced at the grass, her jaw clenching.

“It,” I repeated quietly.

Jax glanced up at me, her eyes soft, hurting.

“Love,” she said simply.

We were quiet for a long moment. And then Jax sighed again, blowing smoke out of her nose so that it curled into the air like a question mark. “But maybe that's not why I was kept here. Because since you and Nova came and asked for my help...I've been feeling...strange. Less...myself.”

I crouched down on the ground beside her, watching her carefully. “What do you mean?” I searched her face.

She held my gaze, her own one steady, unafraid.

“I feel like there's just less of me. I think I'm fading away.”

“But...” I trailed off helplessly.

I didn't know what to say.

I don't claim to know what happens after you die...but fading away into nothingness after getting this second chance—not that it was much of one—it just seemed so cruel.

I knew that the world could be a cruel place, I wasn't naive. But this seemed exceptionally horrible.

I didn't want that for Jax. It hurt my heart, deeply, to see her like this, but Jax didn't let me think about it for long. She reached out with a soft smile, squeezing my hand. “Hey, did you like the service last night?”

“Yes, but...I mean, let's get back to the topic at hand, okay? This...all of this is so big.” I sat down on my bottom on the edge of the gravel path, the stones pressing through the fabric of my skirt, and I brushed them away, annoyed. “Jax, I'm worried about you.”

“You have enough of your own stuff to be worried about.” The vampire took a deep, long drag on the cigarette and gave another one of her elegant, rolling shrugs.

“Jax—”

“I mean it.” I'd never heard her tone sharp before, and I was startled as I gazed at my friend. She stared at me with eyes that were just as sharp as her words, narrowed eyes that pinned me to the spot.

“Nova loves you,” said Jax slowly, carefully, “and you love her. And in this whole, enormous, messed up world, you've found each other. Do you even understand how incredible that is?” Emotion choked her voice, and Jax took a long, careful breath. “You're lucky,” she murmured, glancing at me. “You've got a miracle, together. You have love, just the best and deepest stuff, for each other. It's fierce and raw and true, and by God...it's beautiful. Take care of her, and she'll take care of you, and when everything in the universe is so uncertain...to have something so sure...” Jax shrugged elegantly. “It's a gift.”

We sat quietly for a long time. We sat, side by side, almost shoulder to shoulder, and after a while, I took her hand in mine and squeezed it, looking down at the slightly transparent fingers.

“Are you afraid?” I whispered to her.

Jax shook her head, stubbing out the end of her cigarette on her headstone with a small grimace.

“I've never been afraid of anything,” she said quietly, and she squeezed my hand before she helped me stand. “In life, we've only got this moment, Annie. This is the only thing we've been assured. So do the best you can while you're in it. That's all you can do.”

I put my arms around my friend and hugged her tightly—she embraced me back, and maybe it was just my imagination, I don't know...but she seemed less substantial than she'd been before. Jax seemed less solid as I gripped her fiercely. I embraced her hard, closing my eyes tight, trying to shut out the sadness.

The smallest cigarette stub burned out on her headstone, in a small heap of its own useless ash.

Chapter 15: Us!

“Did you know?”

Nova glanced up from her task at hand, which was rapid push ups in the center of the pastor quarters' floor. She glanced in my direction, but she certainly didn't stop working out, her arm muscles flexing as she lowered herself toward the ground before pushing herself away from the tired hardwood again. I watched her for a long moment as her tank top rode up a little to show that lovely slope at the small of her back...

She didn't answer me.

I think she knew what I was talking about.

I shut the door behind me and came into the room, my arms crossed in front of me. I wasn't angry at Nova for not telling me that her best friend/ex-girlfriend was dead. That would be the most heartless thing... To be honest, I didn't really know what I was feeling, couldn't really narrow down my many grappling emotions to just one of them...

I was upset. I was worried. I was heartbroken for Jax.

And yet, when I looked at Nova, I felt something else, too. It rose in me just as powerfully as all of the other emotions, tangling in them like spiderwebs built in the same doorway. I felt so much, just then, but the strongest thing, the most powerful thing that filled me...

Love.

I felt love.

I sat down on the edge of the bed next to Sunny, who was on her back, her legs splayed in the air, conked out cold because my Sheltie requires approximately twenty three and a half hours of sleep each day. I rubbed her belly absentmindedly (Sunny didn't even stop her gentle snoring), and then gave my full attention back to Nova.

I leaned forward, watching her. The soft panting of her breath each time she pushed away from the floor, the shush of sound of her tank top, her workout pants, against her skin, against her muscles, sounded like a whispery music. There weren't really any other sounds that reached us, this deep in the church except for those we made together.

It was just Nova and me and nothing else in the world, right now.

And that was enough.

Nova kept going through the motions of the exercise as I watched her, her breathing coming just a little harder, but hardly—not like I'd be panting if I was doing anything like “exercise.” There was sweat that stood out, sticking the white tank top to her spine, sweat that glimmered along the swell of her shoulder blades, along the curves of her biceps, her forearms.

I watched her, my head to the side for a moment, and then I stood.

I walked over to where Nova was doing her push ups in the center of the room. As I approached her, each of my steps fell quietly on the hardwood floor, my ballet flats hardly making a sound. But of course Nova knew I was there, knew how I moved in the room, knew I was coming closer to her. I could see on the up swing of each push up that her lips were curling up into a taut smile as I came to stand beside her.

I continued to watch her. She knew I did this, could feel the weight of my gaze on her. I know she did, because of how her movements changed. Each push up was so much more deliberate now, slower, calculated.

I watched her muscles flex, watched her move below, and then I crouched down next to her. This movement I did slowly, and when I was crouched fully, my ass resting on the back of my heels, I wrapped my arms about my knees, and I simply...paused. I could feel the tension of the moment, could feel it radiating through both of us, could feel that connection between us, the power and energy of it tightening, like when you pull a rubber band, the rubber vibrating with that tension...

That's how I felt while I watched her, my eyes roving over her body, my heart rising, fluttering against my ribs. I watched her move, watched her muscles flex, watched her lungs inhale and exhale as she propelled her body powerfully up and down.

I tried to clean my mind. “We should talk,” I told her quietly. “About Jax.”

Nova didn't say anything for a long moment, but eventually, she grunted affirmation. “We will,” she growled. “But I've got to finish first.”

It was a stall tactic, and we both knew it. She followed this up with: “I'm sorry, my work outs take longer here than it would with my gym equipment...I really only have gravity and my body I can work with for resistance, so I've got to work at it longer to keep the same fitness level.”

I gazed at her with interest, and I could feel my blood starting to thrum faster and hotter inside of me as the bare bones of an idea became visible.

“You're saying you need your workout to be more difficult?” I asked her.

Nova snorted. “Yes. I've got to do a million push ups compared to a few reps at a gym with the resistance—” Nova was going to say something else, but there must have been a hint of mischief in my tone for she glanced sidelong at me.

For half a heartbeat, our eyes met.

For half a heartbeat, we exchanged a single glance...

There was so much unspoken in that single, simple look.

Nova had woken up this morning and left a trail of hot kisses on my shoulder and down my bare back—I'd slept on my stomach—before getting up and making her way into the shower. Those kisses had burned with an exquisite fire, her mouth against my skin an inferno I craved.

We hadn't talked about last night, but then...we didn't need to.

Some things don't need to be put into words.

I rose and I glanced down at Nova's body, moving against and in rhythm with the floor, rising away from it and descending back toward it, that simple, difficult motion created with nothing but muscle and strength. I smiled down at her because—when I looked at her—there was a softness that overtook me. She filled me with softness, with a tenderness that embroidered all the edges of my heart, I was realizing.

I had an idea. She'd given me one...

So I simply followed through.

I lifted the hem of my skirts—the dress was about mid-calf length—and I delicately stepped over Nova's rising and descending ass, rising and falling with each measured push up. I straddled her delicately, watching her rhythm for a moment, and then I sat down—gingerly, I admit—my own ass connecting with the curve of the small of her back, and the curve of her rear.

I sat down on her like one would sit down on the edge of a park bench, perching gingerly, but my whole weight pressing into her.

I could feel Nova rumble with a laugh beneath me as I crossed my legs on the side of her and sat there primly, feeling her muscles ripple beneath me, feeling her rise and fall.

She hadn't made the smallest adjustment in how she did the push ups, or the rate and rhythm of them.

She simply continued on as if nothing had happened. As if I had not, in fact, sat down on her with my whole weight.

“Good,” she grunted, after a minute. “This helps.” I grinned a little, finding my balance on her, and...I thought that'd be about it. It was sexy sitting on her as she did her push ups, admittedly—she was hot, heat radiating off of her because of how hard she was working out—but I thought she'd simply get done a little faster with her workout, and there'd be a pinch more sexual tension between us. Win, win.

But, after a few heartbeats, Nova continued. Words I hadn't quite expected...

“You feel good on me.”

This last was said in a low growl, so low that I almost didn't catch it.

But I heard her.

I stayed very still as Nova moved beneath me. I could feel my heart beating faster in me, probably because I could also feel those muscles moving, felt her beneath me, against me...

Just like she'd been last night.

Heat slowly unfurled inside of me, beginning to move through me as I looked down at Nova, at the slopes of her shoulders, at the muscles moving in patterns, over and over again in the same patterns as she pushed up and then let herself fall, controlled, slowly down.

I sat there, I watched her...

And I thought about what Jax had told me.

I knew Nova. Not as well as I'd like, but I was learning her like I might have devoured a favorite subject in school, incapable of getting enough. I knew that Nova must blame herself for what happened to Jax...that Jax was no longer with us. Nova protected. Nova guarded. That's what she did, that's who she was, and Jax had died, and Nova would have blamed herself wholly for that.

In the beginning, Nova had what I assumed were unassailable walls built carefully about her heart. It unnerved her that she had feelings for me. I, on the other hand, had feelings for her, and I followed those feelings, because that's the type of person I am: I thought she was attractive, I felt a tug on my heart when I looked at her, and so I followed that path wherever it led.

But that's not Nova's style.

She'd built a wall.

She wasn't ready to let anyone else in.

And then, slowly, carefully...

Nova had let me in.

I reached down and pressed my palm gently against the soft fabric of her cotton tank top. I felt the muscles of her shoulder rippling beneath my hand, felt the strength of her, felt that solidity and dependability...felt the power and love radiating from her into me.

Nova slowed down. She finally remained in a plank position, her strong fingers and palms splayed against the ground, her toes digging into the floor, her body in a perfect upward plank, holding me up without a single tremble from her.

I felt her breath, rising and falling, felt all of her beneath me. My hand remained against her, and my own breath was beginning to move a little faster, because the heat that radiated from Nova...well, it was radiating into me.

I lifted my palm until there were only fingertips resting against Nova's back, fingertips that connected me to her, fingertips that absorbed the warmth of her.

I traced those fingertips across the path of her spine.

Down.

“What are you doing?” Nova rumbled beneath me. I could actually feel her rumble, could feel the strength in the few words she chose to utter, could feel the vibration of her lungs giving power to those words...felt it all on this incredibly visceral level that unfurled pangs of desire throughout every inch of me, opening like a wild rose, sharp and intoxicating in its loveliness.

I'd say the desire came on suddenly, like a fever I couldn't predict...but that wouldn't be entirely truthful. Oh, it was like a fever, full of heat, all at once, but there was no pain to it.

And I could definitely have predicted it.

Whenever I was around Nova, there was a want within me, a want to be closer to her, tight against her, her hand in mine, her skin against my own, her eyes upon me. Something of me or mine wanted to touch something that was her or hers, just because that's how I was meant to fit into the universe.

I felt it, felt the rightness of it when I was near her.

It's not that Nova completed me. It's that, together, we became something entirely new.

Something...extraordinary.

Nova had asked me what I was doing. But she knew, of course. She knew without asking, because there was something prescient about Nova. She was a wolf, and there were instincts in her that moved differently from us humans. She could track a rabbit in the depths of the forest, she had the uncanny ability to figure out which direction was north, even at night, even when it was cloudy. She could hunt and track and—so I'd been told—kill with a ruthless ability and talent that marked her as a predator.

As a wolf.

But this, this connection between us, this language we spoke without words together...this had nothing to do with the fact that Nova was a wolf, and I was a human. It had nothing to do with her instincts and her strength.

It had to do with...well. Us.

So when she lowered herself to the floor, when she pressed her belly against the old hardwood, propping her chin on her crossed wrists, letting out a long, low sigh, I felt it radiating from her body. Felt the desire that was within me reflected and returned by her, felt it in waves emanating from her muscles, from her skin, from every inch of her long, lean length.

I felt it.

I felt her.

I'd been sitting in a very lady-like fashion, legs crossed, balancing actually pretty well on my wolf...but now that she'd lowered herself to the floor, I slowly straddled the small of her back, my knees pressing into the floorboards on either side of her waist. I leaned forward, and I set my palms against her shoulder blades as my center pressed hard against that small of her back. My breath hitched in my throat as my need pulsed like a heartbeat.

I could see the rise and fall of each breath from Nova, could feel it beneath my palms, could feel the steady staccato of her blood, her own heartbeat moving ever faster beneath my fingertips.

I leaned forward, the old floor creaking beneath my shift of weight. I exhaled slowly, every problem, every fear, every worry, easing itself out of my body and quietly rambling away into the shadows. I'd take them all back, after this.

But, right now...it was only us.

I brushed my mouth over her shoulder blade, felt the heat of her skin against my kiss.

She'd asked me what I was doing.

And so I answered her.

I whispered, “let's get wild.”

And to that, Nova chuckled, a pleasant growl of pleasure that vibrated beneath my fingertips as I eased them under the hem of her tank top, as I eased it up, beneath my belly—my front was pressed against her back as I leaned forward, over her—and up to her shoulders, and over them.

Nova moved beneath me, rising in the right places, and soon the tank top was discarded beside us, and it was only my hands against her skin, the front of my dress, my breasts, pressing hard against her back, the sculpted curves of it rising and falling beneath me as her breath quickened. Her own breasts were pressed flat against the cold floor, and I ran my fingers down her sides, against their curves. I could not contain my sigh of desire.

Sitting on her, over her, settling against her, I was struck—just for a heartbeat, I didn't really have time for much thought, only feeling—that we fit together so well, Nova and I, our curves aligning with a satisfaction that I felt soul-deep.

I pressed my mouth to her skin again and again as my fingertips traced down the sides of her body, dragging over her skin with a sharpness I wanted her to feel. She shivered beneath me, and it was with delight, and it ignited delight in me, too.

Everything was delight as my kiss deepened, as I laved my tongue over the skin of her shoulders, tasting that perfect salt. My hands found the waistband of her workout leggings. I inched myself down a little—I was no longer straddling her waist, but now my knees were on either side of her thighs, pressing into the floor as I hooked my fingertips over the hem of her pants, over the hem of her panties, dragging everything down together.

Nova growled with a sigh, lifting her ass to me so that I could shimmy her leggings down and over her rear, and I growled, too, with that sweet delight, with that incandescent need as I stared down at her bare back, the soft, slight curve of her waist, the perfect curves of her ass, one of the only parts of her physical body that possessed softness.

I leaned down with a sigh again, and now I knew instinct, too, as I pressed my chest to the curve of her back, brought my mouth to her backbone, let my tongue lick away her salt, tracing kisses, licking down, down the column of her back, dragging my fingernails down her sides as she groaned beneath me, arching, curving, pushing her ass up. She ground her breasts into the floor as she pressed the palms of her hands to the old hardwood, growling, her entire body asking.

Well...not exactly. Because “asking” denotes that she needed something from me. That this need was so powerful that she, alone, could not aid it.

But there was nothing weak in the growling, trembling creature beneath my mouth and hands.

Need does not make us weak.

It makes us wild.

Now, a wolf is wild—wildness is their very essence. But I felt wild, too, just then as I pressed my mouth to her skin, as I kissed her body, closing my eyes because all I wanted in this great big world was to dive into the sensation of my lips against her, my tongue against her.

I wanted to taste her salt and nothing else.

Her panties and her leggings were shoved down to her upper thighs, and she raised her ass to me as I arched over her, my tongue tracing her spine, the curves of her back, my fingers at her hips, gripping them with a ferocity that I was surprised rose in me. She needed me, I needed her, and we were moving together in that brilliance of need, that want that pulsed inside of us, incandescent and white hot.

I was on my hands and knees, my knees straddling her thighs as I pushed up to crouch over her, dragging my fingernails over her ass, leaving soft scratches behind. She growled in delight at the sweet roughness, growled in delight as she arched her back, throwing her head up, turning, her mouth open, panting, wanting as she glanced back at me.

There's a lot of throwaway phrases you use in life but never really think about. They just exist, you use them, you know the definition of them—they're simple. “Making love” was like that. It's a ridiculous phrase that most folks don't even use anymore. We're in the culture of fuck and be fucked now. “Making love” sounds too gentle, too arcane and old-fashioned.

I'd never really understood the phrase: who “makes” love? But as Nova turned beneath me, as her breath rasped hot against my ear, as I felt her hands travel beneath the skirt of my dress, for a fleeting second, I understood a lot about the universe. It's ridiculous, isn't it? Almost cliché.

But it wasn't a cliché to me. Because I understood want and need, and I understood how you build love, one moment at a time, together. I understood, as Nova kissed me fiercely, as she pushed her tongue inside of me, as I pushed my fingers into her, that what we built together, in that moment, was biological. It was physical. Yes, you could look at it clinically like that. The culture's fuck and be fucked, remember?

But that's not what we were doing. That's not what we did.

Nova held my gaze as her hips worked, as her center pulsated against my hand, as the heat of her roared through me, filling me full. Her arms were wrapped around me, her fingers were inside me, too, and there was merging and completing and everything felt good in this raw and fragile way, but as we moved together, that fragility faded, as if the heat of our merging tempered it, somehow.

Steel bends when it's molten. It's shaped into the creation it will eventually become.

I was becoming something else, as Nova and I moved together. And so was she.

Love pulsed through us, white hot and burning, merging and melting.

Nova and I. Me and her.

Us.

Together.

Chapter 16: Bodyguard!

It probably would have been nice, after the Things That Transpired (read: super hot sex) to lie down on the bed for a little bit of comfort. But I was too exhausted after our shenanigans (again, and I really can't put too fine a point on this detail: it had been exhaustively hot) to really do much of anything other than lie there and pant beside Nova, tangled up in her limbs. We were on a rug, partially, so it wasn't horrifically uncomfortable.

Actually...it was nice to be tangled up with her.

It was...lovely.

Nova stretched a little, groaning in pleasure, and rested her other hand on her flat stomach as she glanced at me with one narrowed eye. “Now that was a workout,” she told me with a rumbling chuckling.

I laughed too, not that it was particularly funny—it wasn't, it was pretty darn cheesy, in fact—but because Nova's laughter was incredibly infectious. Nova was sly and clever, funny and charming, but she rarely chuckled herself. When she did, there was this bold commitment to the sound of it—she laughed only when she found something amusing, not to please others. I think I was more used to the latter.

It made her that much more genuine.

I loved that about her.

I loved her.

I sat up on an elbow now, and I stared down at her. Nova regarded me with a soft smile, turning her mouth up at the corners in such a gorgeous curve that my gaze traced the contours of that soft, sumptuous crescent because I had to. Because she drew me to her, always. Every part of her.

It rose in me so quickly that I was powerless to it.

And it was the truth.

So I gazed down at her. I cleared my throat.

“I love you,” I told her.

Simple. Easy. Just like that, the words were out there.

Nova nodded, her smile deepening. “I love you,” she replied, just as simple, just as easy.

And that was it. We'd done it. We'd come together, we'd spoken the truth to one another.

It was done.

I could feel warmth pooling through my limbs, softening every inch of me at that realization. I smiled softly, nodded to her, and then I reached out, threading my fingers through hers, resting on her stomach.

Now wasn't the perfect time to discuss anything but this. Now was, perhaps, a time where words weren't even necessary—after we'd spoken the Big Three.

But the reason I'd come back to the room, the reason I'd wanted to talk to Nova in the first place...

I couldn't forget it.

It was too important.

“Nova...” I began, trailing off, clenching and unclenching my jaw as I tried to figure out what to say, exactly. There was no perfect way to ask this question, so I just soldiered on forward. “Why didn't you tell me that Jax was...dead?” I winced at the word—it seemed so stark and harsh, compared to what we'd just said to one another.

But I wanted to know.

I needed to.

Nova sighed for a very long moment, staring at the ceiling of the room.

“That's...not an easy question to answer.” Her voice was so low that I struggled to hear her. I stared down at her, settling a little further into my elbow, pillowing my chin in my hand as I gazed at the pain, clear and evident on her face.

I waited for her to continue.

It took a long moment. But then she glanced my way, her ice blue eyes piercing in their intensity. “Jax is dead because of...because of me,” she whispered.

And then, there was silence.

I could tell that Nova was struggling, struggling with her emotions, that she normally kept so carefully controlled, struggling with the intensity of what she was feeling. So I stayed quiet. I allowed her to fumble through the pain, allowed her to feel what she needed to feel.

Her fingers, entwined with mine, grasped my hand hard now, squeezing it as she closed her eyes, closed her eyes to me.

Perhaps it was easier to speak with them shut. For when she closed her eyes, when a single tear squeezed out, angling down her cheek...that's when she started to speak.

“The Ares has been around a while. The leader...we've kind of got a rivalry going on. She makes fun of me that I'm not Alpha of Dogstar. It's just petty werewolf bullshit, really. Posturing. I try not to pay attention to it. I'd stopped dating Jax—we were best friends at that point, we just weren't really compatible romantically. Then Jax found Angel and got together with her, and she was so happy...God. I figured I could never possibly have happiness like that, and it was just...amazing to see Jax that in love. I didn't envy her—I couldn't envy her anything. I was so fucking happy for her, right?” Her voice trailed off, searching. “So happy. She'd found the right person. Everything was coming together. I was happy, too...I mean, not like Jax was. But, I didn't need to be. I figured that wasn't for me. Stuff like that.” She took a deep breath, let it out slowly. “Love.”

A long pause.

And then:

“I never involved Jax in Dogstar stuff, never told her what we did or why we did it or who we worked for...nothing. Nothing at all. I wanted to keep her safe, didn't want her to become involved in something that could hurt her...she didn't really approve of everything, anyway. She didn't approve of what I did. You know...she cares...I mean...” There was an anguished ghost of a sob in her throat, but Nova swallowed it down, kept going. “Cared. She cared a lot about kindness. So she didn't really think I should be going around, killing folks, even if they deserved it. And they deserved it, Annie. You've got to believe me.”

“I believe you,” I whispered to her, my mouth sinking to her forehead. I kissed her deeply there, closing my eyes tight as I felt the anguish in my wolf rolling off of her in waves.

There was so much pain in her voice. It hurt, just to hear it.

But all I could do was listen, my lips against her hot skin as I tenderly kissed her, wrapping my arms around her as we lay together on the floor.

Nova was silent. She took a deep breath, let it out in a quavering sigh.

“I came here often back then. To Sanguis Ecclesia. It was just...the place I felt like home. I love the Dogstar house, don't get me wrong...that's my home, yes. But...sometimes there's rivalries among us. They're friendly, but...Astrid and I don't always see eye to eye, and there's this...tension between us. She's Alpha, I don't really ever challenge her on that, but it's almost as if she tests me, tests that I'm willing to be submissive to her. And that's hard for me.” Nova cleared her throat. “Anyway, so I'd come here to the church a lot. Jax and Angel were living together here, in these old pastor's quarters and there's not much room in this place for an extra, but some nights, I'd stay here anyway, sleep in the kitchen on an air mattress. Jax was always so kind to me, we didn't need to be dating for that. It was easy to be here. It was easy.” Her eyes were closed tightly, her mouth in a thin slash of pain, now. “I should have known better.”

I watched her, head cradled in my arms, now, my entire being wrapping her in a circumference of love, of tenderness, of gentleness. The expression on her face was of such deep pain, and I hated it. I hated that she was feeling this hurt. I would have done anything to soothe it, but I could do nothing...I could only sit in silent witness. I could only hold her with gentleness. With love.

So this I did.

“No one really knows much about the Ares,” murmured Nova quietly. “There are rumors, of course. That there are several folks in the gang, leaders, who are high-powered in the wolf community. There's a lot of tensions among them, but there's one thing that they make perfectly clear: they don't take lightly to being challenged. I protected someone that the Ares wanted dead, and the folks in the Ares...they're hell bent on revenge. You might say it's their passion.”

“Revenge,” I repeated, not understanding.

Nova looked up at me then, and all she was consisted of pain.

“They wanted to get even with me,” she whispered.

Another long, hard moment.

And then:

“Jax was killed because of me.”

I shook my head, shook my head immediately. “That's...that's probably not true,” I started, my voice soothing, but Nova was pushing away then, sitting up, turning away from me, her shoulders hunched and curling forward, her fingers pushed through her hair as she leaned forward, back arched, agony in every line and curve of her.

“It's the truth,” Nova growled low. “There was some erroneous intel that Jax and I were still together, but—either way—she was important to me. There was a period of time where the Ares tried to take down the Dogstar by any means necessary to get even. They killed Astrid's husband.”

I stared at her back, mouth open.

“That's what they do. They destroy. Jax lost her life because of me. I am to blame. And now...” Nova turned, shaking her head, and tears were streaming down her face. She didn't sob—she wept silently as she stared at me, her eyes lost with blue. “This. You. Us. It's so...” She breathed out for a long moment, searched for the right word. “Ill-advised,” she finally managed, spitting out the syllables like they were bitter in her mouth.

I didn't even think. I moved forward on my knees across the floor, leaned forward, cupped Nova's face in my hands, pressing my palms to her cheeks, to her jaw, to her skin that radiated heat into my hands. She radiated heat, radiated pain, radiated this quiet sorrow and strength that left me breathless as I searched her face.

“I don't know the circumstances of what happened,” I whispered to her. She held my gaze, unwavering. “But I know it wasn't your fault.”

Her brows furrowed. “Sometimes, bad things happen because of you. You didn't want them to happen, but they still did, and if it wasn't for you, it never would have happened,” said Nova gruffly. “It's still your fault.”

I shook my head. “You didn't mean for it to happen, did you? What was your intent?”

Nova held my gaze.

She said nothing.

“I know you,” I told her, searching her face. “I know your intent was to keep Jax safe and happy and whole. You care about her, and you care about her fiercely. You didn't want anything bad to happen to her.”

“What I wanted and what happened were two very different things.”

“Yes. And I'm sorry about that. I'm so sorry.” I shook my head. “But sometimes, that's how life is. Sometimes bad things happen, but they're not because of you. Sometimes you're in the wrong place at the wrong time, sometimes you know the wrong people, sometimes it's all just spectacular bad luck. But if you are going through this life and you are doing your damn best to take care of those you love...” I trailed off. My voice was thick with emotion. “My parents adopted me a long time ago. I was given up for adoption, and—for a long time—I felt worthless because of that.” I lifted my chin. “This world can be such a horrible place. Sometimes, there's so little love. And sometimes, there are cruel folks who do unspeakably cruel things. But you know what? There's good stuff, too. Like...like dogs.”

As if to illustrate my point, a soft snore emanated from the bed where Sunny lay on her back, legs splayed and pointed toward the ceiling where they sometimes twitched—she was in the farthest reaches of dream land. I did a half sob, a half laugh, and Nova couldn't help but smile, too.

“I don't think anyone should be blamed for loving someone else,” I said simply, shaking my head. “Ever.”

Nova's jaw clenched, and—for a long moment—she thought deeply about what I said.

But her pain won out.

She looked at me, shook her head too, slowly, in pain. She growled: “But the facts—”

“The facts?” came a soft voice.

Nova and I turned, the hair on the back of my neck rising to attention...

And there was Jax, seated on the edge of the bed.

Her legs were crossed. She had an unlit cigarette in her hand. Her head was to the side, and she considered us with a very serious expression making her mouth turn down at the corners, her eyes glinting in the room's soft light.

She loosened her priest's collar as she settled more comfortably against the mattress.

I could see the rumpled comforter through her thighs. Her legs weren't completely transparent, of course, but transparent enough where I could see the curves and folds of the blanket through something (someone) that, by all rights, should have been perfectly solid.

She should have been perfectly solid. But with each day that passed, Jax became less substantial, less solid, just...less, and she became less faster and faster each day.

It made my heart ache.

“Mind if I light up?” asked Jax, her head to the side as she turned her silver lighter over and over in her long fingers—it flashed in the light, but it was a dull flash, like something had subdued its shine.

Nova sighed, but her breath hitched in her throat.

She did not reply.

Jax considered her friend, then pocketed her lighter, sliding it into her back pants pocket, before also sliding off the side of the bed and placing the unlit cigarette behind her ear as she settled on the floor. Jax sat, crosslegged, on the edge of the rug, and though Nova and I were in various stages of undress—I simply pulled my own dress up and down to cover things—she ignored this part, and watched both of us silently for a long moment.

“I knew you blamed yourself, pup,” said Jax then, her voice measured, quiet. “I just didn't know how much.”

Nova watched her from beneath a shock of her long, wild mane—now made much more wild by the fact we'd been rolling around on the floor together. She shook her head, lifted her chin, shoving her hair out of her face almost angrily. “Of course I blame myself. I mean...I do a lot of things, but my greatest strength is that I guard, and I do it well. I keep people safe...and... I failed you on so many levels.” Her voice shook. “You'd be alive today if you'd never known me.”

Jax shook her head. “Who's to say?”

“What?” Nova growled, her eyes narrowed. “Jax, don't be ridiculous—”

“I'm not being ridiculous,” answered Jax, her voice still measured and gentle. “Nothing in life is assured, Nova. Nothing is guaranteed. You know that, perhaps better than anyone.”

Nova opened her mouth, anger rising in her, but Jax raised a hand.

And—surprisingly—Nova stayed silent.

“I mean it. I know you. I know you're going to be all noble and valiant, the usual Nova,” said Jax, her mouth turning up at the corners—though the smile didn't quite reach her eyes. “But you have to believe me when I tell you this, because it's the truth. None of us knows when we're going to die.”

We didn't say anything for a long moment—Nova and I watched Jax, and we watched and waited. She was staring at the ground, her jaw tense and tight, and it was several measured heartbeats before she could continue.

Her voice was strained when she said: “I didn't know when I was going to die, but that doesn't make me special, because it's the universal truth for everyone. For all lives. We don't know when we will die, so we do our best to live while we're alive. At least...we try.” She gave a soft smile. “It's such a human thing to do our best to forget that we're mortal, and we are like the humans in that, aren't we? We try to forget that this moment...this is all we have for certain. We come up with elaborate ways to forget our own mortality, but it's always there...always in the background, that nagging knowledge that someday, we will be no more. And, in the very end, we do the best we can,” said Jax simply. “It's all right, Nova. I was going to die someday, anyway.”

“Not because of me,” Nova interjected, but Jax narrowed her eyes.

“Maybe. But the thing is...maybe I would have died 'because' of someone else. That word, 'because,' it carries such a heaviness to it...but there's some lightness to it, too, yeah? 'Because' of you I knew happiness and true friendship. 'Because' of you, I laughed so very much. You made my heart light and full of ease just for knowing you. If the price I had to pay for all of the good moments you gave me was death...I paid it willingly. Love, true friendship...these are things that are priceless. If I could have lived hundreds of years, but I never knew you. That is not a life I would have wanted.”

Nova stared unflinchingly at Jax, though tears filled the wolf's eyes, though they fell down her cheeks in silent march.

She stayed still, and she listened to her friend.

Jax reached out across the space between them and she took Nova's hand and squeezed it gently. I don't know if Nova felt Jax's touch—it was harder and harder each day for Jax to interact with the physical world—but she watched her friend, and she nodded to her.

“I'm sorry,” said Nova, and the words came out in a low, broken growl.

Jax shook her head. “There's no reason to be sorry, pup. I lived while I was alive. And I was glad, so glad, I knew you.”

I lived while I was alive.

I took Jax's other hand, and I felt her fingers soft against my own.

All together, the three of us sat in a small, tight circle of friendship

And of love.

I could feel the ghost's fingers in mine.

They were faint and cold...

But they were there all the same.

Chapter 17: Voices!

We'd been at Sanguis Ecclesia for a month and a half...almost two, now.

Almost two whole months here with her.

Nova.

I realized this with a start as I stared up at the ceiling of the pastor's quarters that morning.

That was...a long time.

And, within that time, there had been no indication that we were leaving.

It's not that I minded staying here, by the way. I didn't, I really didn't. It was...nice. I was grateful for everything the folks here—living or ghosts—had done for me, and I was cognizant of the fact that I'd probably be dead if Nova hadn't brought me to this place.

But...I was ready to get on with my life.

I was ready to introduce Nova to my sister.

I was ready to find out what had happened to my sister.

I was just...ready. Ready to keep on living.

I stared up at the ceiling, and I sighed.

Nova was fast asleep beside me. I was pillowed on her arm and shoulder, and I turned to watch her in sleep. We were both nude, and the sheets tangled around our hips and legs, drawing us closer together...it was the most comfortable I'd ever been, despite the discomfort in my thoughts.

Poor Sunny laid on the foot of the bed, sulking, because of all the times I'd kicked her off last night, in the middle of (ahem) an amorous moment or two.

For the record: my poor saintly dog.

Nova's chest was bare, the rise and fall of her breasts with each low, measured breath a sight of beauty, something so lovely that I felt my own chest tighten, my own breathing becoming faster and less measured...

But I needed to stay focused.

I needed to talk to Nova about Things.

I'd been putting off those conversations each day, but my anxiety about what was happening with my sister—where was she, was she really safe?—was rising to a fevered pitch. I trusted Nova when she told me that my sister was all right, but I was more than frustrated at the fact that she couldn't tell me anything else. I wanted to be understanding, but it was so very hard.

My sister was missing. Yes, Nova swore she was safe, was being protected, would stay safe, yes, but I didn't know where Amanda was, the circumstances she was in.

Was she even happy?

And, perhaps the most upsetting question of all: why did Amanda and I need to be put into hiding?

What the hell was going on?

Who wanted us dead?

I sighed again, and it was with that sigh that Nova began to stir...

But it was early. Too early for her to get up and start prowling around the place like the wolf she was...that sexy, powerful wolf... Ahem, again.

I flicked my gaze back up from her chest to her face. Her expression was so soft and gentle-seeming in sleep. I loved how Nova looked when she was sleeping now. No longer hard and guarded, there was a softness to her. She seemed now, in sleep to be...almost...innocent.

When I say “innocent,” I mean as if nothing bad had ever touched her.

I slid out of the embrace of Nova's arm slowly. I'd learned that when I made minimal movement, Nova didn't usually stir out of dreams. She was, normally, a very light sleeper, but she trusted me now, and my movements didn't startle her or raise her watchful “on alert” instincts.

I sat there on the side of the bed for a long moment, feeling the warmth of her still radiating into me because I was so close, close enough to lie back down, curl myself into her arms, listen to the thrum of her heartbeat...

Trust me, I didn't want to get up.

I slid begrudgingly off the bed and began to root around in the tangle of comforter and some of the extra blankets that had fallen on the floor. I needed to find my panties...

Sunny stood up on the foot of the bed and did her little stretch, play bowing to me, yawning, then shaking her head as she settled back down onto the mattress, watching me studiously.

“Gotta pee, baby?” I mouthed to her. She whined softly, placing her tiny snout onto her tiny paws in protest. Old habits die hard, after all. Sunny never wanted to get out of bed in the morning...

I was starting to take after my dog.

“Come on, kid,” I whispered and patted my bare thigh, and—very begrudgingly—Sunny leapt off the bed and trundled over to the door to lie down by it, gazing long-sufferingly over her shoulder at me.

I ignored her adorable dramatics—I mean, I probably wouldn't be bright eyed and bushy tailed if I had to go potty outside first thing in the morning either. I rounded up the dress I'd been wearing the night before and tossed it on. I grabbed an elastic and put my hair into a quick, messy bun, and I grabbed Sunny's leash, too.

The long walk down the corridors was something I did without thinking now. I knew the twisting and turning route to the parking lot in my sleep, and I was so deep in thought that I didn't even really realize I was out of the building until I'd unclipped Sunny's leash and let her waddle off toward the far end of the parking lot.

I put my hands deep into my dress's pockets and leaned against the church. Overhead, dark gray clouds scuttled across the sky, and rain threatened.

I know this is going to sound weird, but as I stared up at that deep gray sky, I felt a chill curl cold fingers over my skin.

The day felt gray.

It felt...foreboding.

“Hurry up, kid,” I called absently to my dog, who—just as absently—ignored me, trundling around the parking lot in search of whatever a dog searches for.

I hadn't had my first cup of coffee yet, and I kept yawning into my hand. The church wall's stones were cold behind my back as I leaned against them. I remember that, remember how searingly chill it felt to be outside. It'd been so warm lately, but the world was reminding me...it was fall. Autumn had folded itself softly around the church, and Nova had been talking about starting fires in the old fireplace in our rooms. The notion was so damn domestic, so cozy, that it made my heart sing.

It was all normal. Everything normal, or at least the new normal of what my life had become... It was normal, soft, and quiet...

So quiet, in fact, that I could hear a door shutting in the sanctuary of the church.

I glanced over my shoulder at the church behind me, raising a brow, my heart rising in me, too.

I hadn't seen Jax in days. She'd said that she felt...odd, and I was beginning to feel more anxious with each passing hour that, one morning, I'd wake up and she'd simply be gone.

And I'd never see my friend again.

That door shutting...did that mean Jax was in the sanctuary?

I hadn't exactly “made up” with Angel. She still thought I'd cruelly joked with her that her lover was still alive, and I couldn't possibly tell her that no, of course I hadn't made light of her pain, that Jax was simply a ghost I was carrying a friendship on with, but—cruelly—Angel couldn't see her.

That would be a heartless conversation, and the most heartless thing to tell that vampire, to tell her that Jax was still here, but invisible to her. So I just...didn't. I bore the brunt of Angel's anger each time I saw her—she spoke with Nova a few times, but purposefully ignored me—and that was just the way it'd have to be...

So, I had to consider: it might have been Angel who'd opened and shut the door in the sanctuary.

And that would lead to a profoundly awkward encounter...

But if it was Jax, I wanted to see her so badly.

Jax had told me that, as a ghost, she could simply disappear and reappear where she wanted to be. She said it felt like entering a room, forgetting what you came in for, then remembering it, and there you were. More than likely, she'd just appear in the sanctuary if that was her destination. Yes, she could touch objects and cause them to move, like doorknobs, but she said it was getting harder for her to do this...

Long story short, chances were that it was not Jax in the sanctuary.

But my hope won out anyway.

My head and heart were in a tangle of thoughts as I patted my leg, urging Sunny to come back over to me, which my dog did with the most begrudging expression possible. “I'll feed you breakfast,” I promised her, then held the door open so that we could go back inside of the church.

I'd just check the sanctuary first, quickly. Just in case Jax was there.

But as I walked down the corridor that led toward the main room of the church, I paused.

I heard voices echoing in the sanctuary.

Whoever was in the sanctuary there wasn't speaking too loudly...it's that the space was such a large, echoing chamber that even whispers reverberated there, capable of reaching far.

I paused, that hope sinking inside of me. I doubted that Nova was out of our rooms at this point, and Jax wouldn't be speaking with anyone else.

This meant Jax wasn't there.

Disappointed, I turned, about to make my way to the kitchens. My thoughts were on getting breakfast for Sunny, breakfast for Nova and myself, such simple, mundane tasks...

And I stopped.

I stopped like there was an invisible wall in front of me, and I'd just run into it.

I stopped just like that.

For half a heartbeat, everything in the corridor faded away. The grungy, ancient carpeting beneath my feet that had been lovingly tended all those years, the walls covered in old, peeling white paint (the vampires didn't really care about the hallways—it was their sanctuary that they kept up), the vintage lights overhead...it all just disappeared, as if I'd been plunged into freezing water, and darkness alone surrounded me.

The voices in the sanctuary...

I recognized one of them.

That recognition came with a strong, visceral reaction, my entire body responding to it...

Reacting to it as if I'd been punched. Hard.

I'd only heard a handful of words spoken with this voice, but when something truly terrible happens to you, the small, intimate details are what you remember. You may not remember the time or place or day, but you remember how your breath hitched in your throat, how the fingers curled around your neck, what that tightness felt like as your breath was squeezed from your body...

I remembered my assailant, remembered how she sounded...

It was impossible, Nova had said it was impossible that they'd find us here.

And yet, I heard her.

The woman who had tried to kidnap me.

What was her name...?

I couldn't remember that much, but I knew she was there. Names were unimportant when someone wants to hurt you—all that matters is the harm and trying to evade it.

She was there, in the sanctuary of the church where I was supposed to be safe.

She was here. Now.

She'd come for me.

There could have been other folks in the sanctuary, someone with maybe a voice that sounded a little like hers...a million, billion, trillion second guesses and worries and admonishments at myself for overreacting flooded me.

But that didn't stop me from reacting anyway.

I crouched down and immediately picked up my dog, holding Sunny's bulk against my heart so tightly that she made a little whine in my ear.

It wasn't a very loud sound...

But it was loud enough.

I gasped softly, reaching up, pressing my fingers along the side of her snout...

But the noise had been made.

Instantly, cold silence fell all around me, the echoes fading away...

Because the voices in the sanctuary had gone silent.

I stood in the corridor, my heart pounding loudly in the stillness, badum, badum, the rhythm erratic and too fast, thrumming along like a drumbeat. Sunny panted, squirming uncomfortably in my unusual grasp—I normally held her more balanced and carefully. I tried to shush her quietly, tried to wrap my arms around her just a little tighter.

I tried to calculate how far I'd have to run.

How much farther down the corridor from me was the open door that led to the sanctuary? Ten feet? Fifteen?

Close.

It was too close.

I was sure they must have heard us.

I didn't think about it. I didn't second-guess it. I just turned and started back down the corridor. All I wanted in the world was to get away from there. Adrenaline flooded my body, filled my body, overflowed from me in waves that made me feel sick to my stomach... but I could still run. I could run fast, and I had a good head start. I could get out of this. I could get away. And, maybe, just maybe this time, luck was on my side...

But, even as I thought that, even as I hoped that with every part of my heart...

The hope shattered.

A hand fell onto my shoulder, hot fingers curling over my skin, fingernails digging into me like claws. I stopped moving—I could no longer propel myself forward, and it was just like that awful night all over again, just like that awful, awful moment when I felt fingers about my neck, closing, tightening, because—again—there were fingers closing, tightening, around my windpipe, and I coughed, taking in one haggard, wheezing breath as I was yanked off my feet, suddenly suspended in the air.

Sunny tumbled out of my arms as they were yanked behind me, tumbling to the floor with a sad whine.

I was held up, pulled back, and I struggled—of course I did. But there was futility in every motion as my heart hitched in my throat, as my blood roared through my veins, adrenaline pouring through me so completely that my entire body was built of it.

I'd known this day was coming. Somehow, throughout everything, every event and moment that had brought me to here and now, I had known that this would eventually catch up with me. Lying dormant, under my skin, had been the thinnest veneer of foreboding.

I'd never forgotten the fingers around my throat.

I'd never forgotten the threat in the woman's voice.

I'd never forgotten how badly she wanted me dead.

For a brief moment as I was hauled backwards, against my assailant, as I was hauled backwards down the hall, toward the sanctuary, hope blossomed in my chest. It was brief, obviously—I didn't have much cause for it—but I still felt it.

And that hope had everything to do with Nova.

For that brief moment, I thought about her back in the old pastor's quarters. I thought about her getting out of the shower. I thought about her turning her nose to the air as she did when she was sniffing something out. I thought about her scenting that there were unfamiliar folks in the sanctuary, or—maybe, perhaps—she would recognize their scents, just as I'd recognized my assailant's voice.

And then, she'd growl, the low vibration of malice rising in her lungs as she bent forward, as the wolf rose inside of her, too. She'd change, become the beast.

And then she'd come for me.

And Nova would save me again.

But that brief hope was shattered as I was dragged into the sanctuary, as I was shoved through the door and—surprisingly—let go.

For there, on the altar at the end of the sanctuary...

Well.

There was Nova.

She was in her wolf form, which surprised me, and though I wasn't as used to that form as her human, I still recognized her in an instant, my breath hitching in my throat.

Because Nova was bound with rope, thick rope threading around her long legs, around her paws, around her snout and around her narrow middle, matting her fur down along her flanks.

She was lying on her side on the ground in a pool of her own blood. I saw it, saw the bright red pulsing out of slashes in her sides, oozing slowly down her fur, dripping onto the floor of the dais.

Nova was badly hurt.

She was tied up, tightly.

She wasn't going to save me.

She wasn't even going to save herself.

If gravity had chosen that moment to consume me, if a hole had opened itself up in the floor, and I had been dragged down to the center of the earth, the finality of that pull would have felt less painful.

I stared at Nova, my lover, my wolf, at her blood on the floor, at the pain on her face, at the ropes cutting into the sides of her snout...

All of my breath was stolen from me.

Everything was stolen from me.

This was the end.

I knew it. I knew it, and—oddly—there was some peace that came with that realization. Whatever they were about to do to me—and I had absolutely no doubt that the shadows along the edges of the wall in the sanctuary, each belonging to a person who had come here for the express purpose to find me—it would all be over soon, wouldn't it?

I wasn't afraid of pain and I wasn't afraid to die. Now, that's not to be confused with wanting to die...I had a hell of a lot to live for. I didn't want to go. But if this was my time...there was nothing I could do to stop it.

I'd made my peace with the fact that this might be it.

But, by God...when I looked at Nova on that dais, when I saw the pain in her eyes, when I saw the sadness and shame that crept over her face...

It gutted me like a knife in the stomach, twisting deep and deeper still as I watched her.

She had not found a shred of peace. Because Nova couldn't save me.

And—because of this—she had lost everything.

I saw it. Don't ask me how I knew, because I could never put it into something like words, but I saw that hopeless knowledge cresting over her face, the realization that they had gotten me.

I'd had hope myself before I'd entered the sanctuary. It was a thin strand of the stuff, but warm hope had still unfurled, deep inside of me, that Nova might be able to save me. And, likewise, before Nova had seen me, she'd obviously had that hope, too. Maybe she'd hoped that I wouldn't come this way. That there was time for me to leave, get to safety, if I'd only recognize that I was in danger...

Nova had possessed hope before she'd seen me.

And, upon seeing my face, all of that hope was taken from her.

There is nothing worse than that cold unfurling of hopelessness in your heart.

Nova and I stared at one another across the empty space of the sanctuary. Some of the people in the room were talking in low grunts, but I couldn't make out specifics—not that it mattered. It didn't matter what they were saying, it didn't matter what their plans were, it didn't even really matter what they intended to do to us.

Because everything else faded away into a sort of shadow when I locked eyes with Nova.

Everything around us fell away...

And it was only me and her.

Only me and her in the universe.

And nothing was going to stop me from reaching her.

I walked up the center aisle of the church. My abductors moved all around me quietly, some muttering to each other, but...they let me do this. The two doors—the one in the back of the altar, and the one that began at the foot of the aisle—were both sealed with goons standing in front of them, in the pose of “you shall not pass.” That knowledge, too, was only in the background of my mind. I paid it no attention.

I walked up the center of the aisle like a bride on her wedding day, one foot in front of the other, my chin lifted, my eyes on the one I loved.

My eyes on Nova.

Her blood lay on the dais, her entire body shuddered as she inhaled each time, the ropes cutting into her chest, into the round barrel of her wolf's body, into her limbs and snout. I could see the pain so clearly reflected on her face and with each step I took toward her, that pain reflected inside of me, growing there.

I walked slowly, all the way up the aisle, until I reached Nova. And then I knelt there. I knelt at the foot of the altar like any true supplicant, and I reached forward.

Slowly, gently, with hardly any pressure at all, I pressed my palm to the side of Nova's face, sinking my fingers into her long, soft fur. When I connected with her, when I touched her, pain and anger and fury and rage and everything having to do with those things rose inside of me, spiraling upward like a violent cyclone that was completely out of my control, demolishing everything that had once been inside of me.

I knelt there, and I pressed my palm to my lover's face, watched her labored breathing...

And I had never been more afraid or more angry in my life.

I want to be perfectly clear: I was not afraid for myself.

I was afraid for her.

I didn't want Nova to die.

She could not die.

I locked eyes with her. It was hard for her to keep them open, she was in so much pain. I saw that, I felt that. She looked into my face, and there was so much love in her gaze it made me breathless.

She couldn't speak. She was in her wolf form, and—even if she could—her jaws were bound.

But, then, she didn't need to.

There was more spoken in that simple glance than I had ever heard in my life.

She loved me. I loved her.

It was for love that I knew what I must do.

Nova was bound. I was not. Nova was hurt and bleeding. I was not.

I would save her.

I had to. I had no choice.

She could not die.

I stood up, then. I rose away from her in her ropes and blood, and I turned, surveying the room carefully. My voice was soft, when I spoke these words—yet they still carried: “who is responsible for this?”

Silence.

I knew there'd be silence. Everyone gathered here had been hunting me slowly and steadily all this time, I knew now. They had no respect for me, they had absolutely no compulsion to answer me.

But they would anyway.

I took another step forward. I had been surrounded by wolves my entire life. Maybe I wasn't a wolf in body...

But I sure as hell was one in spirit.

“Who,” I growled out into the stillness, “is responsible for this?”

For a long moment, no one moved, no one spoke a syllable. The shadows remained along the wall, and they were silent.

But then, at the foot of the aisle, a figure came into view. And she strode down the aisle, much like I had, taking each step slowly, reverently. When she was about ten feet from me, then and only then did she stop, did she survey me, a cruel smile twisting her features into an ugly contortion.

The woman who had come for me before, who had choked me, who had wanted me dead. This was her.

I could not remember her name, but I knew her face. I knew her soul. And both these things possessed a breathless ugliness that felt like a punch in the gut to look at. Oh, she was beautiful, don't get me wrong.

But her expression was as monstrous as hell itself.

This woman watched me for a long moment, eyes narrowed, surveying me. She took her time, looked smug while doing it.

Cat and mouse.

And then she said: “You asked who was responsible for all of this?”

I said nothing.

I waited.

Her mouth curled into a cruel sneer. “You are responsible for this.”

I blinked. I looked around me at all of the shadowy figures in the sanctuary, I glanced behind me at my sweetheart bleeding onto the floor.

I balled my hands into fists.

I waited for her to explain herself.

Nature abhors a vacuum, after all. And she just couldn't help herself.

“Do you know who I am?” the woman asked softly, her eyes flashing.

She looked familiar. She sounded familiar. Everything about her was slightly familiar, and I couldn't put my finger quite on what I knew her from, but I knew her, and it was frustrating beyond belief.

But I shook my head. No. I did not know who she was.

Her ugly expression deepened.

“Are you sure?” she pressed, and there was a catch in her words, as if she was upset that I couldn't, in fact, place her in my life.

I shook my head again.

“After...after everything...” She trailed off, shook her head, lifted her chin. “It doesn't matter,” she growled, and then she breathed out, closing her eyes as if she was trying to collect herself. “It doesn't matter,” she repeated, and fixed me in place with a glare that could probably peel paint...or blow up a planet, if given half the chance. “It doesn't matter, because you're going to die, and that's going to be the end of that.”

It was said so matter of factly, the kind of voice you use when you've run out of milk and have to go to the store to get some.

It was so boring, the tone she used, when she stated that I was going to die.

I stepped forward. I lifted my hand to her, held it in front of me, palm facing her. “Stop,” I told her, shaking my head. “Who the hell are you?”

She lifted her chin a little higher, stared down her nose at me.

“Do you remember the name Cervova?” she asked me, gazing at me intensely, searching me for any hint of recognition.

I stood there, and I knew it was familiar, that name...

But, again, I couldn't place it.

So I shook my head slowly.

If I had enraged her earlier by not knowing who she was, well...I didn't know how potent her rage could be.

She stared at me, and she breathed deeply, her breath coming faster and faster as she snarled:

“You don't know? How funny that you don't know.” She advanced toward me, her fingers curling and uncurling against her palms, and I knew she was going to kill me, was going to wrap those self same fingers about my neck again and squeeze until there was nothing left in me this time.

I lifted both hands to her now, palms pointed toward her.

“Tell me,” is all I said, the words simple, soft. I desperately tried to buy some time as I considered my options, tried to consider what the hell I could do to stop all of this. “Tell me who you are,” I crooned to her.

Before I even stopped talking, her grin had deepened, and she was speaking over me, obviously delighted that she was going to be able to make a little speech.

“I'm Veronica Cervova,” she snarled, and then her smile deepened to pure cruelty. “And I've got to ask you, what happened to your parents, Annie Bellfield? Or, should I say, Annie Reynolds?”

In the back of my head, hatred for her roared strong. She sounded like she'd been practicing that petty, ridiculous speech in the mirror, saving it up for the someday she'd be able to deliver it.

God, I hated her then.

But I didn't have time to hate her, because the totality of what she'd said overcame me.

I'd been punched. I must have been.

All the air left me, all of it, and I was gasping for breath, my hand over my head.

“That's...that's the last name of my birth mother,” I said quietly. “How do you know it?”

The woman stared at me, and her expression told me all I needed to know: she was enjoying this. She was enjoying this deeply. “How were you adopted, Reynolds? Did you ever happen to ask where you came from? How it worked? How your parents chose you?”

A flush was rising in my cheeks. I took a step backward. “I was...I was adopted like everyone else is adopted,” I murmured, flustered. “I was adopted through...through an agency. I don't know anything about it other than what my prior last name was.”

“That's interesting,” said Veronica, and her grin deepened to something so ugly that it hurt to look at. “Because that's not actually how it happened. Is it, Nova?”

From the altar, where she was tied so tightly that she couldn't move, a small growl escaped Nova's throat. I turned back over my shoulder to look at her, but Nova wouldn't meet my gaze.

“What's...what's going on?” I whispered.

“Thing is, everything you've been told is bullshit, Reynolds. You weren't found in an agency. Your parents knew the folks who adopted you.”

I started to feel everything going cold. It began in my toes, seeping in through the bottoms of my feet, climbing steadily through my ankles and calves up through my knees...

From the tiniest child, my parents had told me not to worry about where I came from. They loved me so much and they wanted me to focus on the here and now, on their connection with me, on my love for my sister, on the business and my future. But, even in the business, they kept me sheltered. I should have remembered Veronica Cervova—she owned a company that was in competition with ours, but I wasn't involved in stuff like that because my parents didn't want to discuss those things with me. They always worried about me and wanted what was best for me, but I often got the strange feeling that they were too overprotective.

I felt like they were keeping something from me...

“They were all in it together...” began Veronica, but she stopped herself, shaking her head, clearing her throat, trying to swallow some of her zeal as she figured out the best way to tell me what she so badly wanted to.

“Your parents,” Veronica said, pointing a finger at me, “my parents,” she said, pointing a finger at herself, “and your birth parents were all in business together. Three Penny Writing Instruments. It was a huge company, and they made a huge profit, and everything was lovely until they decided that maybe my folks were a little too greedy and wanted them out of the partnership.”

I furrowed my brow. “Wait a minute...that doesn't make sense. My parents own Bellfield Pencils.”

“It wasn't always called that,” said Veronica, shaking her head. “It was once called Three Penny Writing Instruments, and all our parents were best friends and worked together and it was the Garden of fucking Eden, until your parents thought that mine were a little too violent. Were a little too untrustworthy.”

I took another step backward as Veronica advanced on me, an eerie gleam in her eyes.

“What...what happened?” I whispered.

“My parents got fed up with all of the suspicion,” she said, her grin deepening, “and one dark night, they took matters into their own hands.

A chill raced through me. I couldn't breathe.

“And they killed your parents,” said Veronica in a sing-song voice.

“Killed,” I whispered, feeling my entire body grow cold, now.

“Well,” said Veronica with a little shrug, gazing down at her fingernails. “Murdered.”

Chapter 18: Brave!

“What are you talking about?” I tried—and, even to me, my voice sounded like it was caught in my throat. I sounded faint. Devoid of power. I tried to stand taller, stand mighty, but it was so hard when my head and heart were swirling with doubt...

What was she talking about?

Veronica seemed almost exasperated with me as she waved her hand in the air. She, very obviously, had wanted me to already know these details and was frustrated that she had to tell me them. She'd been prepared to announce that she was going to kill me, but she wasn't prepared to tell me all of the details. “My parents killed your parents to get revenge on being kicked out of the company,” she rattled off, grinding her teeth together. “And, because your parents loved your birth parents so much, they adopted you—their only daughter.”

“But...” I spread my hands, felt a sob welling up in me. Now was not the time for that, though, and I swallowed it back down, hard. “But why,” is all I could say.

“Why?” Veronica mimicked. Her frustration evaporated, and she laughed a little. “Your parents were weak,” she hissed to me then. “Your parents were human.”

And then...everything began to make sense.

I was aware, highly aware, of the prejudices some wolves and vampires had against humans. How could I not be aware of it? I was a human, adopted into a werewolf family. Oh, my parents had no prejudice against me—they loved me for who I was, and my big sister did everything in the universe to protect me, always.

But there were others who very much wished that all humans were dead. Or subjugated. Who felt that, as someone who was able to shapeshift, they were far superior to a human who could not.

I stared at Veronica.

“Your parents killed my birth parents,” I said slowly, carefully, “because...mine were human.”

“They had no right to be in business with us, taking the profits that we deserved,” she hissed, advancing on me. “Why would the Bellfields choose the Reynolds over us? It made no sense. The Reynolds were weak, were inferior, were—”

“Human,” I whispered, lifting my chin. “My birth parents were human.”

“Same thing,” Veronica laughed.

I felt so cold.

“You...you said they were all friends...my parents, your parents, my birth parents...three couples got together, built a company?” I hazarded, wanting to make certain I'd gotten it right.

Veronica nodded, narrowing her eyes. “But it should have just been the Cervovas and the Bellfields that got together. They should never have included the Reynolds. They were human, they should have made it a wolf-only company—”

I raised my hands a little higher.

Veronica fell silent.

“My parents were killed?” I asked, and that last word, killed, got caught in my throat, came out only in a whisper.

Veronica's smile deepened. “Yes,” she said, with relish.

I shook my head. I spread my hands. I didn't know what to say.

But she'd not really given me a reason.

I needed to know.

“...why?” I finally whispered.

Veronica glanced at me, and her eyes widened just a little bit—but I saw them do it. I saw the surprise on her face, there for just a heartbeat, and then gone, flitting away, hidden.

She didn't know exactly how to answer me. When we'd gotten down to the “why” of it...she was silent.

She tried to bluster after that. “Because...because they were weak! They were human! Because the Bellfields chose to disband with my parents! Because they chose the Reynolds over my parents! Because—” She drew herself up to her full height and glared daggers down at me as she smiled, wickedly. “Because they deserved it. Survival of the fittest, right?”

The fittest.

Survival of the wolves.

I'd heard that phrase before, used by wolves to justify their hatred and anger towards the humans. Towards people like me. Obviously, as a werewolf, it was horrible to hide who you were. I hated that my sister, Amanda, had had to do it for so long...

But this...this was...

This was wrong on the very basest level.

“There was no reason,” I said flatly. “Your parents killed my parents because they hated them. That's it.”

For another heartbeat—just a heartbeat—Veronica said nothing.

But with the uncertainty that fleeted across her face just then, I knew I'd struck a weak spot inside of her.

She'd wondered about it, too, maybe on her darkest nights, maybe right before she fell asleep.

She'd wondered if it was fair.

“And you...you've been coming after me, after my sister...why?”

Veronica shook her head. This answer she knew, and she knew it quickly.

“To finish what my folks started,” Veronica said. “Once you're gone, we will have completed the annihilation of the Reynolds.”

I wanted to scream, to curl my hands into fists, throw my head back and scream to the sky. After all this time, after all this worry and pain and being hunted...she had no real reason to come after me—and Amanda, for that matter—other than stupid, petty revenge. Revenge that was a generation old at this point.

But the thing is, you can't reason with someone who's carried an already-dead grudge over a generation. That's not something you can change.

You simply have to deal with it.

I stood there, and I felt the dread and loathing of that unfairness consume me. I let it crumble the edges of my skin, let it devour my bones and blood until all I consisted of was that horrific feeling of outrage.

And then I stared at her.

Veronica Cervova. Someone so unimportant in my life that I hadn't even remembered her name. Someone so unimportant to me that she had no bearing on my life whatsoever.

She had no bearing on my sister's life.

She had no meaning to me at all.

I stood there, and I let the pain and that outrage eat me away until there was nothing left, and when I was only outrage...that's when I took a step forward.

Veronica...was not expecting this.

She stared at me, and her eyes widened almost imperceptibly.

But I noticed.

I also noticed something else...

Along the edge of the wall, there was a flicker of something out of place, a flicker of movement...

A flicker of light.

I paused for half a heartbeat. A flicker of light, out of place. Could it have been...

If this was what I thought it was...then, maybe just maybe...

I'd live to see another hour.

That was a strong “maybe.”

But it was the only one I had.

I concentrated on Veronica, the woman standing before me, her uncertainty completely gone, her full lips up and over her teeth, her teeth becoming pointed as she snarled.

“You. You tried to kill me,” I whispered to her.

I took another step forward.

“Your parents killed my parents.”

Another step.

“You've tried to hurt my sister.”

Another step.

We were almost nose to nose now.

Yes, she was taller.

Yes, she had more muscles, was much more powerful than me. Yes, she was bigger, faster, stronger.

But power doesn't mean everything.

Strength doesn't mean everything.

You can be bigger, faster, stronger and more powerful than someone...

But that doesn't make you better.

And that sure as hell doesn't make you the one who wins.

I stood before Veronica, felt the tension and anxiety of the last few weeks percolating just under my skin, but I let it all go. I let it go, because it had already come and gone, those moments. Everything that had been taken from me, the fears that I'd tended in my heart...they were all gone as I stared up at the big, bad wolf.

And you know what?

I wasn't afraid of her.

She could kill me. She could reach out right now and curl her fingers about my neck again, squeezing every last breath from my body until I was limp and cold. She could do this, and it'd all be over before I even knew it. I should fear that eventuality.

I should, by all rights, fear her. Isn't that evolution? Isn't fear how we got here today, the humans who navigate between tall buildings and read books on their phones because our ancestors managed to evade the big, bad predators because they were terrified of them?

Fear is built into our blood and our bones because fear is how humans survived.

But maybe I didn't want to just survive anymore.

I wanted to live.

“I'm going to give you one chance,” I told her, lifting my chin. My heart battered inside of me, keeping a much-too-fast rhythm going.

If I'd been right, if I'd seen what I thought I saw, what I hoped I saw, this was going to turn out okay.

If I was wrong...

If I called her bluff and I was wrong...

I was going to die.

I stood still. I made myself stand still. A ridiculously woozy concoction of bravery and courage bubbled up through me.

And I said:

“I'm going to give you one chance to leave. Get out of here, and take the rest of your goons with you.”

I swallowed. I steeled myself. I made sure my voice didn't shake.

And then I growled: “now.”

Veronica stared at me for a long moment before the laughter started. And I'd known she was going to laugh—of course she was going to laugh.

But I didn't react.

I didn't back down.

I didn't even move.

I just stood there and I stared at her through narrowed eyes, and I watched her laugh. I guess this unnerved her. Because Veronica had been having an awesome time, tilting her head back, laughing a hard and fairly villainous laugh. But, gradually, she fell silent, too.

She seemed almost nervous as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

“Really?” She snapped, crossing her arms in front of her. “Or what?”

I blinked. I simply blinked, and from that one blink to the next second when my eyes were open...

There she was.

Jax.

She stood, perfectly translucent, her face pained, and she stood beside Veronica.

She was close enough to reach out, and she did so slowly, as if the movement pained her. Jax reached out, and she touched my hand.

Veronica was still staring at me, still waiting for me to say something. But I didn't look at her anymore.

I looked at Jax, pain rising inside of me.

She looked so tired.

“I know why I stayed, Annie,” Jax told me then, and she smiled, and it was soft and light. “You take care of that pup for me, will you?”

And then she leaned forward, and pressed her cool mouth to my cheek.

“Goodbye,” Jax whispered.

And she vanished completely.

A sob rose into my throat. But I didn't have time to sob, I didn't have time to do anything but back away from Veronica, putting a hand—the same hand that Jax had reached forward and taken—up to my mouth to stifle that sob. My whole being ached as I realized that, most probably, I would never see my friend again.

She was gone.

She was gone forever.

But, as her very last act...

She'd done this:

Out of the shadows from behind me, she rose, shaking off the untied ropes, bleeding and in pain, obviously...

But very much alive.

And very much free.

Nova rose, and—with no warning at all—she launched her large, lupine self at Veronica.

If Veronica had seen Nova's bindings undone, if she'd had any warning at all, things might have turned out differently.

But Nova came from nowhere. She launched herself from the shadows, a once bound wolf who was wild and free once more...

And Veronica had no chance.

I gathered that, while lying on the altar's dais, Nova had been growing angrier and angrier. Her rage and pent up frustration at being so bound, so defeated, before she'd even had a chance to fight, had risen inside of her until she was an inferno of it.

Nova was as bright as her namesake, a star burning with brilliance as she flew toward Veronica's throat.

She didn't quite reach it.

Nova had the head start, of course, but once Veronica saw the wolf coming toward her, she was able to turn, just a little.

This meant that Nova's jaws did not clamp around Veronica's throat...but they clamped around her shoulder, instead.

And an angry wolf and very sharp teeth do damage, no matter where they land.

When Nova's jaws hit into Veronica's shoulder, this caused the tall woman to become unsteady on her feet. When Nova's body—following Nova's ravenous teeth, of course—slammed into Veronica too...well, that was a bit too much for her to take.

Veronica went down, Nova on top of her.

It would have been cinematic to say that they rolled around on the ground, biting and snarling at one another, but Veronica wasn't in her wolf form, and she didn't stand a chance. She'd narrowly avoided having her jugular snapped in half, and her whole neck with it, so once she was on the ground, she stayed still, calling surrender as she glared up at the wolf who rose over her.

“Call them off,” I said loudly, so that Veronica could hear me over my snarling girlfriend. “Call off your goons. Make them leave now.” I thought about it for a minute and then I looked around. “And I need my cellphone back.”

No one moved for a long moment, and Veronica didn't, either.

“Now,” I snarled.

And, I'm proud to say, I sounded like I meant business.

Which I did.

Begrudgingly, Veronica glanced sidelong. “Give it back to her,” she murmured. “And leave the church. Get out of here.”

“But...what about you?” one of the guys asked, stepping forward.

It was noble and nice, I guess, for someone who'd been about to kill me and had absolutely no qualms about doing this, to be worried about his boss, but Veronica shook her head, growled a little, too, and the rest of her people took the hint, walking in single file out of the sanctuary. I got handed my phone by a woman who looked like she'd appreciate eating me, but had missed the chance.

I did not feel sorry for her.

I dialed nine one one, because I couldn't think of what else to do.

“Nine one one, what is your emergency?” came a very chipper (frankly much too chipper for this early in the morning) voice.

I worded it as best as I was able:

“I'm about to get killed,” I told her, and then glanced around me, realizing I really didn't want to implicate the church or the lovely folks who'd sheltered me here. “Um...I'm in an alley, and there's this woman who wants me dead...” I gave the operator the best coordinates I could think of, and then I hung up, wincing, as I realized they were on their way right this minute. We didn't have a lot of time.

“We gotta go,” I told Nova, and I picked up an enormous candelabra and went to stand over the both of them. “We gotta go now,” I reiterated, gazing at my wolf meaningfully.

And with a whole hell of a lot of love.

Nova transformed and found her clothes as I held the candelabra menacingly over Veronica's head. I think Veronica half wondered if I had it in me, but the one moment she tried to stretch out her legs to get a little bit more comfortable on the sanctuary's floor, I brandished the candelabra a little higher...

She stopped moving.

A few moments later, we were walking behind Veronica as she made her way toward the alley, hands raised. Nova walked beside me, wincing and limping heavily, her hands deep in her suit jacket pockets—her knuckles were horribly bruised. Apparently, she'd gone down swinging.

That's my girl.

We stood in the alley, waiting for the cops to come. Overhead, it was threatening rain, still—but the clouds hadn't yet opened up.

They would, soon.

The city was in need of a good drenching.

Nova put a languid arm about my shoulders and brought me close, pressing her hot mouth to my forehead with a smirk. “Never knew you had it in you, bunny,” she teased, raising a brow. “I'm really proud of you.”

I tried to hide the grin that flashed over my face, but—to hell with it. I grinned hugely up at her, and bit my lip a little, gazing up through my eyelashes at her. “I like it when you say that.”

“You like it when I say a lot of things,” Nova observed with a fairly quick come on, her voice almost akin to a purr as she pressed her mouth to my forehead again and leaned close to my ear, her breath hot and sweet and something that made my blood beat just a little faster. “You know your sister is safe, right?” she asked me, then, and the sexual tension moved on—never far away, mind you. But I could think for a moment.

“Yes?” I answered, glancing up at her.

And that's when Nova's smile deepened.

“The reason I couldn't tell you what was happening is that your sister orchestrated all of this.”

My brow furrowed.

I stared.

“All of this,” she repeated, and tapped herself on her chest. “She hired us to kidnap you.”

I blinked.

“Because, if the Ares thought someone else was after you, it'd be safer. If they thought you were already kidnapped, well...you might be untouchable. It didn't exactly work...” She rocked back on her heels. “But it almost did. If they didn't have such amazing trackers—and I mean amazing, you should have been unfindable. The whole thing would have worked.”

“So...the Dogstar kidnapped Amanda, too?” I wagered, and Nova nodded, her smile deepening just a little more.

“You catch on fast,” she growled to me, her eyes twinkling.

“So...she can come out of hiding now?”

“I already called 'em—the rest of the pack are on the way.”

I sagged with relief against Nova, and then I lifted my chin, gasping.

“Wait a minute!” I looked at her. “Wait, wait, wait...she wouldn't...”

Nova waited patiently as I went through several indignant sounds.

“Did my sister...did she ask for you, specifically, to kidnap me?” I stared up at Nova, my mouth open. “After all of this, did she actually try to set us up after all?”

And Nova grinned, a little bit like a wolf.

“Hey, I don't divulge trade secrets—” she began, but didn't get very far, because I made a few more indignant noises, and then I'd had enough.

Sirens filled the air, I heard the screech of brakes and tires, as I drew my wolf down for a kiss by pulling on her tie.

Nova laughed until our mouths met, and then she growled in delight.

And I did, too, because—after all this time—I'd discovered that there was a little bit of wolf in me, too.

The End

If you enjoyed The Bodyguard, you'll love The Protector! Elizabeth Grayson doesn’t want a bodyguard, but changes her tune when she meets brooding, mysterious, sexy-as-hell Layne…who harbors a secret... A passionate romance, The Protector is available to read for free in Kindle Unlimited!

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About Author Bridget Essex

My name is Bridget Essex, and I write about werewolves, vampires and lady knights; about two strong, courageous women who fall deeply in love with one another, living love stories that transcend time. I’m married to the love of my life, author Natalie Vivien.

I’m best known for my Knight Legends series, stories about women knights, real world hi-jinks and love stories that are out of this world. My Sullivan Vampire novellas are a popular series lauded as “TWILIGHT for women who love women,” and I have several other series and stand-alone novellas, and I’m always putting out something new. Sign up for our newsletter to be the first to know when I release something!

You can find out more about my work at http://BridgetEssex.wordpress.com I’d love to connect with you on Facebook! Friend me on Facebook here: https://www.facebook.com/bridgetessexauthor

Learn more about Rose and Star Press, publishers of lesbian romance and fiction of distinction, at http:///www.LesbianRomance.org

Table of Contents

The Bodyguard

Chapter 1: Kidnapped!

Chapter 2: Cake!

Chapter 3: Teeth!

Chapter 4: Escape!

Chapter 5: Trouble!

Chapter 6: Run!

Chapter 7: Sanctuary!

Chapter 8: Ex!

Chapter 9: Complicated!

Chapter 10: Advice!

Chapter 11: Truth!

Chapter 12: Church!

Chapter 13: Yes!

Chapter 14: Secrets!

Chapter 15: Us!

Chapter 16: Bodyguard!

Chapter 17: Voices!

Chapter 18: Brave!

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About Author Bridget Essex