Cora's Secret
Author: Tracy Cooper-Posey
Date: 2015-05-19 04:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Menage; Paranormal; M M Romance; Romance; Paranormal Romance; Erotica
Description: Not all secrets are worth keeping… Coralee Tate has a secret. Keeping it means living alone, separated from everyone she cares about, so that no one will ever learn the truth. It also means keeping her distance from Rhys Wisherd, the Erie County sheriff, no matter how much she likes him. Rhys knows that someone or something bad is stalking the people of his county, but he can’t put his finger on the culprit—not until two strangers arrive in town. The first is a tall blond man called Luke who doesn’t think Rhys is paranoid. The second stranger has a magnetic compulsion that draws both Rhys and

Cora's Secret: A Vampire Ménage Urban Fantasy Romance

- About Cora’s Secret
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- About the Author

About Cora’s Secret

Not all secrets are worth keeping…

Coralee Tate has a secret. Keeping it means living alone, separated from everyone she cares about, so that no one will ever learn the truth. It also means keeping her distance from Rhys Wisherd, the Erie County sheriff, no matter how much she likes him.

Rhys knows that someone or something bad is stalking the people of his county, but he can’t put his finger on the culprit—not until two strangers arrive in town. The first is a tall blond man called Luke who doesn’t think Rhys is paranoid.

The second stranger has a magnetic compulsion that draws both Rhys and Cora into his sphere of influence. Aithan Smith has dark secrets of his own that would normally force him to keep his distance but this time, with these two, he finds he can’t.

The bonding has begun….

Warning: This short MMF vampire romance features two super-hot alpha heroes, multiple sex scenes, including anal sex, MM sexual play, and MMF sex. Do not read this book if frank sexual language and sex scenes offend you.
No non-humans were harmed except for large numbers of Grimoré, who died with satisfactory squeals…

This book is part of the Destiny’s Trinities series:
Book 1: Beth’s Acceptance
Book 2: Mia’s Return
Book 3: Sera’s Gift
Book 3.5: The First Trinity
Book 4: Cora’s Secret

Praise for Cora’s Secret

Praise for the Destiny’s Trinities series

…a dark and delightfully erotic new series that sizzles in passion and crackles in danger.

…a mystified world filled with paranormal evil and danger that is absolutely riveting.

…the sensual world filled with danger, suspense, passion and a few secrets that all work in perfect harmony for a captivating story.

Chapter One

Lindal rested his head against the glass of the door that led onto their rooftop balcony and pressed his hand against his chest. His heart was pounding like he had run for miles at full speed, but for the last two weeks he hadn’t done anything more active than pick up a book.

It felt like months, not weeks. Beth and Zack wouldn’t let him do anything energetic at all.

He shifted his head against the cool glass. It was raining outside, a late summer thunderstorm. September, already. He yearned to step out into the rain.

“You okay?” Zack asked, behind him. He had phrased the question to make it sound like a casual enquiry, but Lindal could almost feel the worry behind it.

“I’m fine,” he said shortly.

“It’s late. Beth’s gone to bed already. Maybe—”

“I said I’m fine.”

Beth moved into the room, trailing silk and lace, a frown marring the perfection of her face. “I can feel you two getting wound up. What’s happening?”

For the first time in his life, Lindal resented the mental linking that was a part of their bond. It felt restrictive, like too-tight clothing. He couldn’t breathe. “I wish,” he said and sipped at the air, pressing his hand against his chest even harder to relieve the ache, “that you would both just back off and let me be.”

He pushed the door open and the sound of the torrential rain leapt to a thunderous downpour, thrumming against the roof-top.

“Luke!” Beth called anxiously as he stepped out onto the balcony and into the rain. It wasn’t often she dropped back to using his human name. When she did it was usually because she was pissed at him.

This time, he didn’t care. He sloshed over to the edge of the balcony, the water squelching through his bare toes. As he went, he pulled his shirt open. At the railing he lifted his head up and leaned back to let the water pound against his chest.

He could feel his skin relaxing. Even the almost constant ache from the crazy-quilt of scarring and stitches across his chest and stomach eased. He let out his breath, letting everything go.

There was still a tightness in the middle of his chest that the rain didn’t erase. But out here, he could think. He could deal with it.

* * * * *

The thunder shower had passed on and the water had drained away by the time he stepped back inside, shut and locked the door behind him.

The living room was empty. Three big towels were folded up and sitting on the arm of the chair closest to the door. The towels were silent support. They were leaving him alone as he had asked. This was the flipside of the bonding. Almost perfect empathy meant that often, none of them had to explain to either of the other two. They already knew and understood.

Lindal dropped one of the towels to the floor and stood on it while he stripped his sodden clothing off. Then he used the other two to dry off.

The apartment was silent and still. His heart squeezed and guilt touched him. He wrapped the driest towel around his hips and moved around the counter into the kitchen. Now he had settled the problem that had been gnawing at him, he was hungry. It was one of the few times he could remember having an appetite since he had woken after the vampeen attack and found Zack sitting next to him, trying not to cry.

He sighed and looked in the fridge, hoping for inspiration. There was a chef’s salad from Orinoco’s, the deli on the corner of the block. He fished a fork out of the dishwasher and starting eating straight from the carton.

He was nearly done when Zack walked into the room.

“Is Beth okay?” Lindal asked.

“It took her a long while to fall asleep,” Zack said, his voice tight.

Lindal put the salad on the counter, abruptly disinterested in eating.

Zack picked up the carton, took the fork from his hand and began to eat in big, wolfing mouthfuls. He only ate like that when he was stressed.

“I guess I worried you, too.”

Zack shrugged, not meeting his eyes.

Lindal dropped his gaze to the tiles under his feet. “Zack…” This was exactly as difficult to do as he had guessed it would be. He forced the words out. “I have to leave for a while.” Then he lifted his head to see how Zack reacted.

Zack had stopped eating. He was looking at him, the predator stare that meant he was thinking hard. He put the carton on the counter. Slowly. “You need time alone,” he said flatly. “Without us.”

That hurt, as Zack had meant it to. Lindal let the petty pain disperse before he spoke again, because he didn’t want it driving his reaction. “I don’t know what I need,” he said. “But I do know I can’t find it here.”

Zack’s jaw was tense. He leaned back against the counter with his arms crossed, fury radiating from every tense line of his body. “We’re not enough.”

“No, that’s not it.” Lindal took a step forward, the need to emphasize how wrong Zack was driving him into movement, bringing him closer. “I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to go away at all, but it’s here, inside me.” He caught at his chest. “Something is compelling me. I don’t know what it is. I only know I have to leave. I have to go. North.”

“North?” Zack looked at him oddly. “What the fuck is north of here?”

“I don’t know,” Lindal said. “I don’t even know why I have to go. I only know that I must.”

“Must,” Zack repeated woodenly. He was back to wearing the sullen expression once more.

Lindal reached for him, half expecting Zack would shrug him off. But when he held his face in his hands, Zack closed his eyes. “I can’t explain this,” Lindal told him. “But I really need you to believe that I’m not leaving you. Either of you. I have to do this and I’m doing it under protest.”

Zack opened his eyes. “It doesn’t make sense.” His voice was harsh. “The trinities are formed, the Grimoré are here, the war is winding up for the big finish—eight months and it’s all over. And now you want to head off north, like a migrating goose. Why now?”

Lindal let him go. “I don’t know why. I won’t until I go there. Wherever there is.”

Zack shook his head.

“It’s not me doing this!” Lindal cried, then drew in a breath, trying to reach for calm. He’d wake Beth if he didn’t hold it together. “I don’t want to go,” he added, his voice lower.

“Then don’t.” Zack shrugged.

“Will you tell Beth for me?”

“You’re leaving now?”

Lindal gripped the edge of the counter. He had failed so far to make Zack understand the driving thing inside him, making him uneasy, almost sick with the need to leave, to head north. If he couldn’t explain that, then Zack would never understand that whatever it was that was pushing him into doing this, it was also making it imperative that he go now.

Zack gave a low, short laugh, filled with derision. “If you’re fucking off right now, then you can tell her yourself, coward.”

“He doesn’t have to,” Beth said from the doorway.

Lindal’s heart sank. He looked at her. She was standing in the door, still wearing the silk and lace thing that outlined her curves so agreeably, but her cheeks were wet with tears.

She looked at Zack. “He’s not a coward,” she said softly. “You know that better than anyone.”

Zack swallowed, then shook his head. “You’re right. He’s not. But that doesn’t make any difference. Nothing we say will. He’s leaving.”

“He’ll be back,” she said. “The bonding won’t leave him out there for long. The power of the trinities is what will let us win against the Grimoré. Lindal will be back.” Her smile was tremulous, like she didn’t believe her own words.

Lindal held out his hands. “Please. Please…let me kiss you before I leave,” he whispered. “Both of you. I won’t be able to do this if you don’t let me go.”

Beth floated into the kitchen, all silk and red tresses. She pressed herself up against him and her lips brushed his cheek. “Be safe,” she whispered and kissed him. Her body was hot against his, separated by thin silk. Her lips were soft and her scent enveloped him. Lindal held her tightly and devoured her mouth, wondering when he would get to do this again.

He didn’t want to let her go, but Beth stepped back, out of his arms. Her eyes were glittering with more tears.

Lindal looked at Zack. His arms were still crossed. The anger was muted now. Instead, Lindal could see the misery in his eyes that he was trying to hide from both of them.

He unfolded Zack’s arms by tugging on his wrist, pulling him closer. “When you fight, make sure you’re on Beth’s left side, instead of the right, like you would normally.”

Zack nodded, not meeting his gaze.

“If you’re on the left, it will feel odd because you’re not used to it. You won’t make the mistake of thinking I’m there. You won’t leave her flank unguarded.”

Zack made a choking sound and threw his arm around Lindal’s neck. “I don’t think I can do this…” he whispered. The strength in his grip was almost overwhelming.

“Breathe,” Lindal murmured. “That’s all I’m doing.”

Zack’s lips touched his cheek, then pressed against his mouth. Hard. Then he was gone. Vampire speed. He moved around Beth and out of the kitchen.

Beth pressed her hands together. “Do you need help packing?”

Lindal shook his head. “I’m not taking much at all.” It didn’t feel right to haul luggage with him. If he had to follow this compulsion—and it did feel like he had no choice—then he would follow it exactly.

Beth gave him a small smile. “I’m going to find Zack,” she said softly.

“Hold him for me,” Lindal said and watched her leave. Then he dug the heels of his hands into his eyes, clearing his vision of tears.

Chapter Two

“Oh, this blue here…this is such a pretty color!” Mandy said, tapping her long, manicured fingernail against the little square of paint sample that laid almost directly beneath Cora’s elbow. “Is that…?” She picked up the sample card to read the tiny print beneath. “Robin’s Nest Blue,” she said and wrinkled her nose. “Where do they come up with the names for them?”

Cora smiled. “It makes them sound more exotic, I suppose. You could call it medium blue, but I don’t think you’d sell many cans of it. If it was called, say, Gerard Butler’s Eyes, you’d sell a bushel of them.” A pair of blue eyes, more familiar than Gerard Butler’s, flipped into her memory. Blue eyes, square jaw… She reached for the sample cards spread across the lunchroom table, straightening them up and stacking them, annoyed at herself.

Mandy giggled. “I’d buy it, if that was what it was called. Your spare room is going to look great when you’re done. I’d love to see it.”

“I was aiming to have you over for coffee and cake, once I finished,” Cora said. She glanced at the clock on the wall and stood up, stuffing the samples into her purse. “I’m due back on the floor.” She pulled her croupier vest straight. “Now, you watch those drunks tonight, if you’re on the cheap tables. They’re powerful mean on Saturdays, after drinking all day.”

“I know it,” Mandy said with a sigh. “I’ll see you later.”

Cora went through to the locker room and put her bag and her empty lunch bag in her locker and pocketed the key. She looked at her reflection in the mirror, checking to see her lipstick was good and her hair respectable, then walked through the service corridors and stepped out onto the gaming floor of the casino. It was just after five in the afternoon. She only had another five hours to go and was privately thankful. The late shift on a Saturday nearly always presented a challenge of some sort. An insistent drunk, an unhappy gambler, cheaters who thought they’d never get caught, card counters, card sharps, tourists, the underage…everyone hit the tables on a Saturday night, when the high numbers meant security was stretched and croupiers had to develop eyes in the back of their heads so they could help security stay on top of things.

The cheap tables, those with a minimum bet of a dollar, were crowded and noisy and Cora slipped between them, heading for the heavy tables on the other side of the room, where her assigned table was.

As she passed the last table, something rippled across her consciousness and she came to an abrupt halt. The man behind her almost cannoned into her and apologized profusely. Canadian, she automatically catalogued as he stepped around her. There were a lot of Canadians who cruised across the lake, usually from Port Rowan, to take in a little gambling. Or they drove down the coastline from the Fort Erie Bridge and Buffalo.

She was trying to pretend she hadn’t felt that touch of coldness, distracting herself by thinking about Canadians and the casino’s clientele instead. Ducking it….

So she turned slowly on her heel, letting her gaze sweep over the cheap tables and the packed-in gamblers, looking for what had triggered the mental alert.

There. There he was.

He looked like a normal man. A really good-looking normal man in his mid-thirties, with short, black hair and the scruffy two days’ worth of growth most men seemed to favor these days. His features were Mediterranean—olive skin and white teeth and extreme sexiness.

He was watching her. His eyes were the same pitch black as his hair.

She walked over to where he was standing. He wasn’t even trying to pretend to be interested in the table he was standing next to. He was watching her with unblinking steadiness, already marking himself as different, as not right. He was careless.

Cora grabbed his arm just above the elbow, gripping through the leather sleeve of his jacket. “Come with me,” she said quietly.

The fact that he turned and let her lead him away from the tables proved that she was right about him. A normal human would have protested, demanding to know what was wrong, why she wanted them to leave.

She gripped harder, letting her fingers dig in, as her anger built.

“If you take me through the service corridors, people will notice,” he said.

“If I do what I’m going to do to you out in the public areas, people will really notice.” She shoved the swing door open with the flat of her hand. “Get in there.” She pushed him through and he staggered, but stayed on his feet. She kept herding him forward, her hands on his shoulders, through the short corridor to the fire escape doors at the other end.

She opened the door with her security pass while hanging on to his sleeve, even though he was making no attempt to fight back. She wasn’t going to give him any chance to cut out on her until they had spoken.

The staff parking lot was only half-full. Bright sunlight made her throw her arm up until her eyes adjusted. She hauled him out and shoved until he staggered once more. He ended up against the shift manager’s Dodge. He looked at her without emotion. “I was minding my own business,” he pointed out.

“In my casino. You’re hunting for your next victim! How dare you!” She pointed toward the long causeway that connected the island the casino sat on with the mainland. “Start walking, asshole.”

“I wasn’t hunting,” he said, his dark-eyed gaze steady.

“Bullshit. Creatures like you are always hunting. It’s what defines you.” She stepped closer to it. “What are you, anyway?”

“Can’t you tell?” he asked quietly. “You spotted me instantly. You felt me. That should tell you everything.”

“It tells me you’re not human. That’s all I need to know.” She pointed toward the causeway road once more. “You don’t just leave the island, you leave town. You don’t come back. You don’t feed while you’re in Erie. You don’t stop until you reach the next state. I don’t want you anywhere inside Pennsylvania come tomorrow.”

“What, no one but you gets to live in Erie, Pennsylvania?”

“That’s right.”

He stared at her, like he was reassessing her. “Supernaturals are taking over this town. They have been for weeks. Are you blind?”

“I can see you just fine. Just like anyone else I find here, I’m giving you your marching orders.”

He seemed puzzled. “You don’t feel it, do you?”

Her heart jumped. “Feel what?” Why on earth was she even letting him string her along like this? She should toss him in the water and get back to work. She had to do it quickly. They would come looking for her soon. She was already late reporting back to her table and her pit boss for the night, Kruger, would have security scouting for her if she was more than a couple of minutes late.

“I felt it even before I saw you,” he said. “For two days I’ve been heading here, even though I was settled in Cleveland. I didn’t understand it, but I came anyway. Now I understand.”

“You’re not making a lick of sense. Are you trying to delay leaving?”

“Yes.” His gaze was the same steady, patient one. “I’m waiting for you to feel it.”

“Feel what?” Irritation flared. This was ridiculous.

But in her heart, she knew it wasn’t. It hadn’t been the sense of cold that had halted her in the middle of the gaming room floor. She had only felt that afterward. It was something else. It was a sense of inevitability….

“You can feel it,” he said slowly. “You’re just in full denial. Is that why no other supernatural can live in your town? Are you denying that, too? Pretending you’re hu—”

She didn’t let him get the rest out. It wasn’t planned. She didn’t make a decision. She just launched herself at him, a growl locked in her throat and fury driving her.

She had enough strength to knock him almost off his feet. She grabbed the shoulder of his jacket and let her momentum spin her around behind him as he staggered once more. She kept pulling, throwing him out into the middle of the parking lot. He was a lot stronger and faster than he should be. He stayed on his feet, his hands out for balance and leaning forward.

But when she hit him from behind, his already precarious balance fled. He slid forward, his hands skidding along the tarmac and she heard him hiss in pain. Then his breath whooshed out of him as his full length landed heavily. She stood over him and turned him so he was on his back, then dropped to her knees, pinning his arms down with them.

Her first punch slammed his jaw to one side.

He shook his head to clear it, just like a human would. That incensed her even more. Trying to be human? This thing? She hit him again. And again.

Then she was hitting him repeatedly, her anger venting itself with every blow.

He shifted his weight under her and wrenched his arms out from under her knees. She heard leather tear.

His hands were around her waist. He was lifting her.

“No!” she cried and tried to swing her fist past his arm. Instead, her knuckles hit his shoulder. She felt the soft give of muscles beneath. As he sat up, bringing her up with him, she redoubled her efforts. She wanted him to hurt. She wanted him wounded. But most of all, she wanted him to shut up and go away. If beating him to a pulp would do it, then good.

But his reach was longer than hers. He plopped her onto his knees like she was a toddler and pulled his head back out of the way as she took another swipe at him. “Don’t,” he said mildly.

“Stop me.”

“I just did.”

She swung at him again.

This time he didn’t duck. Instead, he pulled her up against him and her elbow thumped up against the meaty part of his upper arm.

His lips pressed against hers.

The action was so shocking that for a second or two, Cora’s mind blanked out. Pleasure swamped her. It had been too long since she had felt this heated response to a man’s kiss. But this rich depth of pleasure was different. New.

Cora tore herself away from him, stumbling across the tarmac, her breath ragged and her heart trying to burst through her chest. She came to a halt up against the same Dodge, her hand splayed against the side window for balance.

He moved up behind her. “Hey…”

“No!” She pushed herself upright and turned to look at him. “Don’t say anything. Just leave. Get out of town. I have no intention of listening to anything you might think you have to say.”

Then she spun and raced for the door, fumbling for her pass card. Without looking, she knew he was watching her every step.

* * * * *

It took long minutes for her to shrug off what had happened and fully concentrate on dealing. Kruger watched her relentlessly. She was good at her job. Her hands did most of the work without her having to think about it. Which was a problem, for when her mind settled into the dangerous idle mode, she starting thinking all over again about what had happened with him…it….

Finally, she deliberately called up the details of the current renovation project in her townhouse. Colors, accessories, trimmings. The drapes she intended to make. Denim? Or sheers? Or Roman blinds?

It kept Kruger off her back and the customers happy for the next couple of hours…until Sheriff Wisherd turned up.

* * * * *

Rhys Wisherd watched through the diner windows as the tall blond man got out of the black Audi with the New York plates and stretched hard. If he’d driven all the way up from Manhattan, then he had reason to stretch. That also explained why he had pulled up in front of the diner. It was highly visible from the I90 and yanked in a lot of transient customers.

Rhys ate here because the food was good and the prices even better. It also let him keep tabs on new arrivals, passers-through and other potential sources of trouble. As the county sheriff, he liked to stay on top of who was floating around his town. Erie wasn’t a big place, but lately, it had acquired some big city problems.

He couldn’t figure out if this guy was potential trouble or not. He was travelling alone, which wasn’t unusual, but did put him into an interesting category.

Rhys finished his second cup of coffee as the guy locked the car and headed for the front doors of the diner. The guy stepped off the sidewalk to let a couple of women get through without brushing up against the bumpers of the cars pulled up in front of the diner.

A polite fellow then.

He also seemed to be a healthy one. It was a hot day, especially for September, and he was wearing a short-sleeved and collared tee shirt, open at the front. His arms seemed to…well, glow. So did his face and his blond hair. He was in such peak condition it was radiating from him.

Rhys recalled that it had been months since he’d hit the gym. He looked down at the remains of the bacon, hash browns and eggs he’d had for his early dinner and grimaced. He was a long way away from the sort of health that would make him glow.

He looked up from the plate as the man came inside, sized the room up in one sweep, then moved over to the counter and settled on one of the row of empty stools there. Most people took booths and Rhys was usually the only one eating at the counter. But he was usually the only one eating alone.

The blond man glanced at him and gave him a short nod. His eyes were blue, like Rhys’, but deeper. Then he picked up the menu that laid in front of him and studied it.

Rhys thought the guy was possibly taller than him. His shoulders were solid, matching his overall health and proving that he exercised. There was a serious amount of muscle there and none of it was steroid-induced excess. He worked his muscles hard and built them the honest way.

All in all, the guy looked harmless. He was probably passing through town like most strangers pulling into the diner were. But Rhys found himself studying him even more closely. There was something about him that was interesting. He didn’t know what it was yet. It wasn’t like his cop’s instincts were jumping. The man gave off no negative signals at all. But Rhys couldn’t look away.

The man looked up from the menu and around, almost like he could feel Rhys staring at him. Their gazes met and the man’s eyes narrowed. Not in anger or suspicion, but puzzlement.

Rhys got to his feet and moved down the counter to where the man was sitting. He leaned against the counter. “It’s a knock-out day, isn’t it? Good for travelling.”

“It is,” the man agreed coolly.

Up this close, he really did seem to glow. It came from his skin, like the luster inside oyster shells.

“You heading through?” Rhys asked.

The man put down the menu and turned to face him directly. Rhys had a feeling that he was about to tell him to fuck off and mind his own business. Then his gaze flickered over the badge on Rhys’ belt and he relaxed and gave him a friendly smile. “I’m not sure, Sheriff. I’m done driving for the day, that’s for sure. I saw the lake in the distance and thought I’d find a place for the night here. The water looks wonderful.”

“You like water sports, then?” That might explain the glow. A touch of sun. It was late summer, after all.

“I do.” The man’s gaze was pulled away by Betsy as she sauntered over to them with her hand on her hip.

“D’ya for?” she asked. Her gaze flickered toward Rhys. “You need more coffee, Sheriff?”

“I would like another one, yes.”

“Could I get the Cobb salad, please,” the blond man told her.

Yeah, the healthy type. Rhys mentally sighed.

“Sure thing.” Betsy took the menu from him and wandered away. She never seemed to hurry but tables got waited upon with invisible efficiency, anyway. It was another reason Rhys liked coming here.

“I’ll let you get on with your supper.” Rhys turned away, intending to go back to his stool.

“Stay and talk.”

Rhys turned back to him. “Excuse me?”

The man frowned. “I’m sorry…?”

“You said something.”

He shook his head slowly. “Nope.”

Rhys pressed his hand against the counter. “My mistake.”

The man turned on the stool to face him. “Do you check out every stranger that shows up in Erie, Sheriff?”

Rhys got the impression it wasn’t an idle question. “I like to stay on top of newbies.”

“New people are a problem?”

Rhys grimaced. “I’m a county sheriff. That means I’ve got charge of a lot more than just Erie itself. The county is fifteen hundred square miles and there are three hundred thousand people living in it. I have seven deputies and I can call in the local police as I need to. But the Interstate runs right past the city, there’s the resort and the casino out on the island and the Canadian border is halfway across the lake. Yeah, strangers are an issue. Especially lately.”

Betsy put a fresh mug of coffee in front of Rhys. “Awww, Sheriff, everyone knows why you like to hang out at the casino. The southern one, right?” She laughed like it was the funniest thing she’d ever heard, then held the pot over the mug in front of the blond man.

He shook his head. “Do you have green tea?”

Betsy tilted her head. “We’ve got normal teabags in the back, if you want.”

“Just water, thanks.” He smiled at her without resentment and looked back at Rhys. “Why are strangers suddenly a problem, Sheriff?”

Rhys sank onto the stool and picked up his coffee. “I’m Rhys. Rhys Wisherd.”

“Luke Alvey.” He held his hand out and Rhys shook it, feeling the expected strength there, but Luke Alvey didn’t try to crush his fingers, either.

“Alvey. That’s a rare one.”

“It’s English. I looked it up, once. It means ‘elf-battle’.” Luke grinned. He nodded his thanks as Betsy put a big glass of iced water in front of him. “You were saying?”

“I was?” Rhys asked.

“About strangers and recent troubles.”

Rhys looked around the diner, suddenly aware of the people who might be listening in. But the diner was almost empty. There was a couple in the far corner booth, their heads together. Even Betsy had disappeared into the kitchen.

Luke was watching him, his expression patient.

“I don’t know why the fuck I’m suddenly spilling my guts to you.”

“I’m interested. I’m from Manhattan. There, the problems are self-evident, everywhere you look. This little city looks angelic in comparison. It’s difficult to wrap my head around the idea that you have troubles more serious than drunk high school kids and hunters going over their limit.”

Rhys scratched at the steel countertop with his thumb nail. “I meet with the Erie police chief every Thursday night. He plays a rotten game of cards, especially after his third beer, but he likes to talk.” He shifted on the stool, uneasiness curling through him. A part of his mind was screaming at him. Shut up! Shut up!

Luke rested his elbow on the counter and his head on his hand, exactly like someone who had been driving all day and was feeling the effects. “The police are worried, too? What’s happening?”

“Missing persons. The number of missing person reports has quadrupled in the last six months.”

“Did you have many before that?”

“A few. Little Alison Howey might take exception to her husband banging the girl in his office and take off for Pittsburgh and not tell him. Some kids run away because the home life isn’t all great. But that’s usual. That’s expected and most of ’em, even if we never found them, we could figure out why they’d run. But lately….” He shook his head.

“Everything is normal, then abruptly, they’re gone.”

“Exactly.” Rhys knocked back a big mouthful of the coffee. From the sour taste he knew he’d reached his limit for the day. He would pay for it tonight if he kept drinking it.

“What else?” Luke asked.

“The park wardens pick up a lot of poachers during the off-season and there’s some funny stories coming from the hunters they catch. Claims that there’s more than bears in the woods these days. One or two of them I’d pass off as poachers trying to shift attention away from their transgressions. But you know what?”

“Poaching has dropped down to next to nothing,” Luke said softly.

Rhys nodded. “Something is scaring these macho idiots right out of the forests.”

“Missing people. Hunting regulations. That’s not your usual beat, is it, Sheriff?”

Rhys shrugged. “I grew up in this town. I know everyone. I get to hear stuff. There’s always been a floating population and a drug problem because of the border crossing the lake here. But now it’s even weirder shit. Animal mutilations. Household pets and wild game, their carcasses ripped to shreds. A veterinary friend of mine who got to see one of them said it was hard to tell because of how torn up the body was, but he thought something had been chewing on it and whatever it was, it wasn’t a bear.”

Luke nodded, his expression grave. This was the first time Rhys had ever spoken about the uptick in crimes and problems. Even though it sounded like paranoia run amok to him, Luke didn’t seem to have any problems believing him. Perhaps that was why he was offloading his concerns onto a total stranger.

Rhys lurched to his feet. “Listen to me run off at the mouth. I’m sorry.”

“I get the feeling there’s not too many other people around here you can talk to. Don’t worry about it.”

“Thanks for understanding.”

“No problems. But while you’re here, can I ask you for a recommendation for somewhere to stay for the night? Perhaps a bed and breakfast on the lakeshore, where I can see the water?”

“There’s dozens of them,” Rhys told him. “Lots of Victorian gingerbread houses all painted up. Azure Arms is a good one. Ginny Jacobs runs it and has for years and years. Tell her I sent you.”

“Thanks, I will.” Luke turned back to face the counter as Betsy put a loaded plate in front of him. “You be careful, Sheriff. You’ve got problems you have no idea you’re dealing with.”

Rhys studied him. Now Luke was turned back to face the counter, Rhys was at too sharp an angle to really see his face properly. But for a moment, he thought that Luke hadn’t moved his mouth when he spoke.

Ventriloquism? But even if he could throw his voice, why would he?

Rhys dismissed the stupid notion. He simply hadn’t been able to see Luke speak, that was all.

But it was a very odd thing to say.

The flesh over his spine shifted uneasily. A dozen questions prodded for attention. Rhys stared at Luke’s shoulders as the man started to eat. He was pleasant, gave off absolutely zero signals that he was likely to be any sort of trouble, plus he was passing through. He’d be gone by tomorrow. Making him answer more nosy questions would be bordering on harassment.

So Rhys hitched his belt so it settled properly on his hips and cleared his throat. “I’ll leave you to your supper. Enjoy your stay.”

Luke looked over his shoulder. One very blue eye looked at him. “I will. Thank you.”

Rhys went out to his cruiser and climbed in. He glanced at the time readout on the dashboard and tried to shrug off the uneasy feeling still scratching between his shoulder blades. There was enough time for him to drive out to the casino and spend a few minutes catching up with Jimmy Eschlen, the manager. It had been a few days since he’d been out there and it was a trouble hot spot. Jimmy would clock on around now.

He started the car and pulled out into Highway 79. It would eventually get him to Peninsula Drive, the causeway that gave access to the island. As he drove, he tried to ignore the voice in his mind that was laughing at the idea that it was Jimmy he was really going to see.

Chapter Three

Cora swept up the cards with a practiced motion. She was on the last three hours of her shift and was already looking forward to going home. She tapped them into a pack and slid the pack into the back of the shoe, face-up.

“Coralee,” the middle-aged man on the far left of the table said, reading off her name tag. “That’s a pretty name.”

“Why, thank you,” Cora told him, making her cheek dimple. “It’s so sweet of you to say so.” She injected more of the South into her accent. The accent was genuine, but she had been away from Texas long enough that it had faded. But the accent, the smile and the dimple got her big tips. So did the cleavage she let show beneath the croupier’s vest.

She glanced around the table once more, sizing it up. Her table was already full and it was only six. That was a sure sign the night was going to be a busy one. Busy meant more tips, so she smiled at everyone and rolled into the next deal.

Her hands moved automatically, finding the deal squares almost on their own, so she had the chance to glance up as she dealt, checking the other tables and the general flow of gamblers around the floor. Sometimes, she could coax the big rollers to come over to her table and park, if she could catch their eye and look at them steadily for a heartbeat, before dropping her gaze away like she was flustered. She had a full table right now, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t size up possibilities. This was a hundred dollar minimum bet table, which the big gamblers preferred.

They always put her on the high stakes tables. She was one of the casino’s best dealers, pulling in good tips and bringing gamblers back night after night.

Rhys Wisherd was standing at the top of the three broad steps that led down into the casino, looking around. He was wearing jeans and a shirt that looked like the pin-striped button-through she liked. It was soft from too many washings which made it more casual than a button-through generally was. His black casual jacket hid the Browning he kept under his arm and the badge on his belt.

Even from here, Cora could see the vivid blue of his eyes. His hair was dark and unruly, the waves longer than she’d expect a lawman to wear them. There were wrinkles at the corners of his eyes and his mouth was pushed into a thoughtful pout.

The edge of the card she was dealing scraped across the green baize with a rough sound and she dragged her gaze back to the cloth and the deal.

Five of them busted on the second card and she collected the cards and the chips. The last three decided to sit on nineteen, twenty and eighteen.

Cora flipped, then flipped again. A ten, which blew her budget. Biting the inside of her cheek, she paid out the sitters, then glanced around for Kruger, the pit boss. Kruger understood the stresses of dealing as he’d come up through the ranks.

“Need a break,” she murmured. “Concentration just slipped.”

“Take five,” he told her. He didn’t protest that she’d just clocked back on a scant hour ago.

“Thanks,” she told him with a smile. “I’m taking a short break,” she announced to the table. “This is Gerald, who will look after you for the next few deals.”

Kruger stepped in behind the kidney-shaped table.

Cora moved down the twelve-foot wide space between tables that made up the main corridor through the casino, heading for the little service corridor and the staff room. She smiled at everyone who caught her gaze, staying friendly and charming despite her heavily beating heart.

“Cora.”

It was Rhys Wisherd’s voice.

Cora turned to face him.

His smile was small and he made no move to close the four feet between them. “You’re on a break?” he asked.

“Five minutes.”

“Pity. I’d offer to buy you a drink, if you had longer.”

This was an old dance. Rhys Wisherd had been threatening to buy her a drink for nearly a year. He’d never come good on the implied promise.

A pair of gamblers moved right through the space between them, oblivious to their conversation. Rhys frowned.

Cora waved him over to the area where all the late-night tables were grouped. They weren’t open yet so there was barely any traffic around them. She leaned back against the padded edge of the closest one. “You look tired,” she told him as he stopped two feet away. Two feet was better than four feet, anyway.

Rhys shook his head. “I had…an interesting conversation, not long ago. It’s bothering me.”

“Some con get under your skin?” she asked, for transporting criminals to and from court was one of the duties he hated the most.

“A traveler passing through.” He shook his head again. “It’s nothing.”

A customer holding one of the freebie drinks from the tables brushed past Rhys, making him look over his shoulder. He stepped closer, out of the traffic path.

Cora’s breath caught. Rhys never got this close, but there was suddenly only a few inches between them. Rhys looked down at her.

He was a tall man, which she liked. She was freakishly tall herself, one of the clichéd long-legged Texas women that they always talked about. Plus she was wearing low heels. But Rhys was taller.

She could smell him. Coffee, aftershave and an underlying scent that had to be his natural one.

As his gaze met hers, Cora swallowed. Her body seemed to go on high alert. The tight hem of the stretch skirt she was wearing rubbed her legs, making her aware of her upper thighs and how much of her legs was on display and the way her hips were outlined by the skirt. The vest was a shaped garment and she wore a low-cut long sleeved tee shirt beneath it so her cleavage wasn’t hidden between the button fronts of the vest. She could feel her breasts in their lace bra cups swell. Her nipples hardened, the lace scratching them.

All she could think of was the almost overwhelming urge to kiss Rhys. She had entertained the idea of kissing him in the past, but never with this degree of compulsion. The need to move, to press herself against him, to feel his heat against her body, was like a tidal force.

Rhys’ eyes narrowed, like they did when he was suspicious. Or puzzled. His lips parted and she heard him draw in a slow breath.

Of all Rhys’ slightly worn features, Cora liked his lips the best. They were full and looked firm. Sometimes she had wondered what they would feel like against hers. What would they taste like? Would he be a good kisser?

That question occurred to her now with even more force. She longed to find out.

She pulled her gaze back up to his eyes. Up close like this, the laugh lines around the corners of his eyes were apparent. So was the very light touch of gray at his temples, but apart from the crinkles at the corners of his eyes, his face was unlined, which meant the gray was premature and probably earned via his high stress job. It added to his slightly imperfect appearance. He wasn’t completely dark-headed, completely young, or perfectly handsome. She guessed his age to be somewhere in his late thirties or early forties.

But he was sexy in a low-key way that a woman looking for a perfect date would miss in her first sweeping glance. It was only after Cora had got to know Rhys Wisherd that she appreciated his better qualities. He had tight hips and an even better ass, that the jeans outlined nicely, but the jacket often hid. She had seen him in rolled-up shirt sleeves only once and knew his forearms were strong with muscle, but he wasn’t muscle-bound. He worked too hard for that.

Everyone liked Sheriff Wisherd. Everyone seemed to know him. Cora had met him the second night on the job, which had been her third day in Erie, and had liked him, too. He visited the casino every few days to check with Jimmy, the manager, and look around for himself. He usually stopped at her table to nod and perhaps speak for a moment in between deals. But she wasn’t the only dealer he chatted with, either. He spread his low-key charm around and didn’t favor anyone in particular.

Now he was almost leaning over her. His lips were inches away. She just had to sway toward him and their mouths would meet.

Do it. The urge was powerful, swelling up inside her like…god, like an orgasm. It was building inside her chest, instead of her belly, but it was impossible to ignore.

“Rhys…” she breathed.

He was breathing harder. Staring at her. At her lips.

He wanted to kiss her, too.

It was a moment of perfect understanding. She could see he was battling with his better senses, the upright, proper perspective of the city’s most popular sheriff ever.

“Howdy, Sheriff Wisherd!” a man, a stranger, said from behind.

The moment was broken. Rhys stirred and looked over his shoulder. The well-wisher was already five yards away, but Rhys raised his hand in greeting anyway.

Cora straightened up from her lean against the table and took a small step to one side, putting distance between her and Rhys. She flipped her hair back over her shoulders, pulled her vest back into place and tried to shake off the dregs of that single powerful moment.

Rhys turned back to her. He had moved farther away from her, as well. He pushed his hands into his jacket pockets. “I should let you have your break,” he said slowly. She got the impression that his mind was working hard. Perhaps he was wondering what the fuck was going on, too. “Have you seen Jimmy tonight?”

“He’s coming in later. Kruger is holding the fort.”

Rhys swallowed. She could hear it. “Would you let Jimmy know I stopped in?”

“Sure can.” It was one of the peppy phrases she used with customers and it sounded as false as it really was. She bit her lip, wondering how she could take it back. “I mean…of course,” she said, her voice low.

He looked at her. Really looked at her. “Sorry to use up your break.”

“I’m off shift at ten.” She could feel her own lips opening in surprise. Why was she telling him that? Had she really just hinted that he should come back?

Rhys took a step backward. “I…ah…gotta go.”

She nodded. She was afraid to speak. Afraid of what might come out of her mouth.

He turned and headed for the doors.

Cora couldn’t help herself. She watched his ass for every step between her and the door. Because his hands were in the pockets of his jacket, the back of the jacket rode up the small of his back and she could watch every flex and bunch of the long thighs and the tight curves above.

In her mind he was naked, the creamy flesh hers to do with as she wished.

Appalled, she made herself walk away, back to her table. Back to work.

* * * * *

Rhys drove back to town like Hell’s Hounds were after him, ignoring the speed limits. The cruiser steered itself home, while he tried to figure out what was going on. He had been that close to bending Cora even farther over the table and…and…

The images that floated to the front of his mind didn’t help his recovery. His body was tightly coiled, the tension all centered on his aching cock. Even his balls felt like solid lead masses and he eased the jeans out of his crotch, to give his throbbing testicles room.

The images persisted. He could feel her skin under his hands. It would be soft. The scent she always wore would be stronger when his mouth hovered just above her breasts….

He groaned and pounded the steering wheel, making his thoughts move away from Cora and her long legs and honey-blonde hair and her big brown eyes.

Were her lips as soft as they looked?

Rhys growled, gripping the steering wheel even harder. When he got home he really was going to take a cold shower. What the fuck was wrong with him? It was like he was in high school all over again.

* * * * *

Cora tried to pull her concentration back around to the job. She tried very hard and managed to last an hour, but Kruger hovered nearby almost the entire hour, wearing a heavy frown.

By the time seven o’clock rolled around, Cora felt exhausted, something that never happened to her. She glanced at the glass doors and the night beyond. Had she really been waiting to see if Rhys would turn up again? Was she really that addled over a pair of thighs?

Abruptly, she told Kruger she was booking off sick for the rest of the night. He didn’t seem surprised.

She changed into her leathers and slung her backpack over her shoulders and carried her helmet out to her Harley. She sat on it and blew out her breath. The night air was cool. Soon it would be cold enough that for appearances’ sake, she would have to give up the bike for winter and start using the Jeep. But that was a few weeks away yet and the way this summer was lingering, it could be even longer.

She looked around the parking lot. The thing, whatever he was, had gone. She would have been surprised if he had stayed.

Cora stared down at the iridescent black paint work on the gas tank between her thighs as a sense memory of his lips against hers zinged back into her mind, making her heart beat and her lips to part as her breath sped up.

Then she blinked. “Damn it all,” she whispered, then twisted her hair and shoved it down the back of her jacket, then pushed the helmet over her head. She started the bike up and headed out onto the causeway, where she opened up the throttle and let the roar of the wind and the air plucking at her jacket disperse the lingering memory.

By the time she reached her complex, the battering of the wind had muffled her thoughts enough that it was safe to get off the bike and go inside. She tripped the remote and steered the bike into the garage, then parked next to the Jeep while the door closed behind her.

She listened to the tick of the cooling engine and the silence from the rest of the house. Her townhouse shared common walls with neighbors on both sides, but they kept very normal hours and would possibly be in bed by now.

Meta Greet, who lived on the right side, would most definitely be asleep. She was an early bird, up by five a.m. every morning regardless of the day of the week, to fit in her running training before she went to work. The Altmanns, on the other side, were elderly and rarely went out.

“Y’all sleep well,” Cora murmured to herself and went into the house. She put the helmet on one of the hooks by the garage door and stripped off her leathers. It was completely still in the house, which was normal and felt comforting.

She could feel herself relaxing as she walked through the freshly painted butler’s pantry into the kitchen and the living room beyond, with its big bay window with white mullions and lace panels.

Slowly, she walked upstairs, letting her mind rove through the dozen or so projects she currently had in progress. Should she settle into painting? Research fabric and designs for the drapes in the main bedroom? Or finish building the shelving in her walk-in wardrobe? She was still in the middle of stripping down the decades of vinyl wallpaper in the third bedroom, too, but that had a common wall with Meta’s house and scraping and tapping on the wall might wake her.

Any woodworking at all had the potential for making noise. That left painting and on-line research into the other renovations and projects she itched to get to.

The idea of sitting still didn’t appeal to her, even if her mind was completely occupied by pleasant thoughts.

Painting it was, then.

She changed into her paint-splattered overalls and went into the second bedroom, which was filled with drop cloth-covered mounds, ladders and the strong aroma of fresh paint. The dark teal on the walls needed a second coat to achieve the full saturation of color.

She hovered with her hand over the light switch and considered the time. Everyone else was in bed. With a shrug, she left the light off. Silently, she picked up the roller and unwrapped the plastic around it and got to work.

Painting was physical work, but after twenty minutes and two walls, she realized that it wasn’t distracting her thoughts the way she wanted it to. She kept finding herself standing with the roller in mid-air, as that hateful kiss played out in her mind all over again, while her heart boomed and her body tightened. Or else it was the moment with Rhys, while his lips had hovered over hers and she would wonder all over again if he really had wanted to kiss her, or had she just dreamed up that glass-shattering tension as a by-product of her own want?

Annoyed, she made herself finish the last two walls, which had the door, closet and windows in them and needed finicky cutting-in detail. As soon as she was done, she wrapped up the roller and poured the excess paint back into the can with sharp movements.

She was going to have to settle for research into new projects after all. At least stray thoughts wouldn’t intrude so often if she was making decisions about annuals and fruit trees.

But thirty minutes later, as she clicked through images of French style courtyards, she found herself staring sightlessly at the screen, the mouse not moving, while her body throbbed. With a sigh, she got the mouse moving again.

It was going to be a very long night.

Chapter Four

By morning, Rhys was ready to dismiss the whole thing at the casino with Cora as a momentary thing. Maybe it was age. His hormones acting up. He didn’t know and he didn’t want to hash it out anymore. He had spent all night doing that, while trying to ease the ache in his body. He had woken feeling more drained and tense than ever.

So he went into the office, even though there would only be skeleton crew on hand. It was Sunday and it was a perfect day and warm for mid-September. The lake was sparkling blue and the sky was cloudless. The leaves weren’t turning yet. It was like summer was lingering just for a little bit longer, which was fine by him. By noon, there would be hundreds of boats on the water and families on the foreshore barbecuing and picnicking.

The gorgeous weather helped Rhys push aside last night’s madness. In the broad light of the day it seemed stupid. The piled up issues in his in-boxed helped to send the matter to the far back of his mind. Another missing person, this time a mother in her forties, who had been on her way to date night with her husband, right here in Erie. The local police would be draining themselves looking for her…along with all the others who had disappeared lately. Chief Dobson had passed the data along as a courtesy and Rhys emailed him back and let him know the Sheriff’s department was ready to assist at any time. But Dobson was an independent soul. He wouldn’t ask for help.

Your problems are bigger than you realize. That guy’s voice echoed in his head. Luke…Alvey. Rhys scowled at his computer screen as he remembered it. Then, with an impatient shove, he pushed the keyboard tray back under the desk and got to his feet.

Bishop, the deputy assigned to the front desk for the day, looked up as Rhys passed him. “Problem?” he asked.

“Breakfast,” Rhys said shortly. “I’ll bring you back a coffee.”

He drove to the diner, taking the longer foreshore route and trying to enjoy the sunshine and the sun-dappled water, the old trees whose branches shadowed the road and the air of lazy peacefulness that hung over the town.

There’s something wrong with this place.

The thought popped into his head out of nowhere, making him draw a deep breath to control the fizz of surprise and the lurch of deep uneasiness that came with it.

There was a man standing on the verge between the road and one of the public parking lots on the shore. He wasn’t standing and facing the water like so many tourists did. Instead, he was watching the road and the oncoming cars, his hands down by his sides, held in tight fists.

There was something about him….

An invisible hand grabbed at Rhys’ gut, twisting it. He snapped on his indicator and wheeled the cruiser into the parking lot, before his brain could catch up with what he was doing.

There was nothing visibly out of kilter about the guy, but something had made Rhys’ instincts twitch. A few words with him wouldn’t hurt anyone and would maybe get his intuition to back down. He freely admitted that he was just a bit high-strung this morning. It was probably nothing.

He pulled the car right up alongside where the man was standing. The man had turned to follow the car’s progress across the lot, but didn’t move toward it.

So Rhys turned off the engine and got out. He moved around the back end of the sedan and up onto the verge. He gave the man a friendly nod. “Waiting for someone?” He got up close to him where he could check him out more carefully.

From farther away, the man seemed quite ordinary. Early to mid-thirties, close cropped black hair and three days’ worth of growth on his chin. He was barely six feet tall, but he was broad across the shoulders. Perhaps that was what had twitched Rhys’ instincts. But why?

Then he got closer. The guy was watching him, a fine line between his thick brows. Up this close, from a few feet away, Rhys could see that his eyes were black. They looked somehow….anonymous. Soulless? With the black brows and lashes, it gave his gaze an unsettling quality, like staring at a man wearing one-way sunglasses. Rhys couldn’t tell what was happening behind his eyes at all.

But the dark eyes were framed by thick brows and black lashes that wouldn’t look out of place on a girl. His skin was pale olive.

Bet he doesn’t have trouble getting woman. The thought crossed his mind almost in passing. The guy was offensively attractive.

“You were watching the traffic,” Rhys said.

“I was,” the man agreed.

“Waiting for someone?” Rhys asked. “You were standing very close to the road.”

“Waiting…yes.” He spoke slowly, like he was trying to figure it out for himself. His gaze flickered toward the side of the cruiser, with the county badge on it. “You’re with the Sheriff’s department?”

“Are you in trouble?” Rhys asked. “Do you need help?” Maybe that was what had caused him to stop and talk to the guy. Maybe he had spotted some subtle signal that the man was stressed. But he didn’t seem overly wound up. He was staring at Rhys with the same puzzled air.

Rhys had a hard time pulling his gaze away from the man’s eyes. They were something else. But was he dangerous? Something was wriggling in Rhys’ gut, trying to make him pay attention. “You’re not a resident.”

“I’ve been staying in Cleveland.” The man spoke with the same slow deliberation, like most of his mind was on something else. “But I had to come.”

Rhys frowned. “Had to come?”

The man shook his head. “You should leave.” The deliberation had gone. Now he spoke with something like authority. Like he knew that Rhys getting out of there was good for reasons Rhys didn’t understand.

Rhys agreed with him. There was something completely whacked about this situation. He couldn’t name the oddness. All he knew was that his instincts were doing a banshee scream. He wanted to leave. But a deep reluctance to actually move back to the car weighed him down.

“Why should I leave?” he demanded.

“Because I can’t.”

The man’s answer made Rhys’ heart lurch and his belly to crawl. He lifted his hand an inch or so and realized he was going for his gun. He made his hand drop. “Why can’t you leave?” Why was he even humoring the guy? Put him in the back of the cruiser and take him to the nearest station and put him in one of their lock-ups. Figure it out later.

The man took a step closer and Rhys made a fist of his hand to keep it down by his side. The man looked at him. Really looked at him, like he was seeing him for the first time. “I don’t want to upset you,” he said softly. His voice was pleasant, too. His eyes…they were hypnotic.

Rhys blinked as he realized he really had been staring into his eyes. The man was even closer now. There wasn’t a foot of grass between them.

“Who the fuck are you?” Fear was trying to crawl up from the base of Rhys’ spine, but he still couldn’t look away.

“Aithan. My name is Aithan.”

Rhys gasped as he recognized the heavy tension gripping him. It was the same throbbing, almost overwhelming need that had pushed him to within an inch of bending Cora over the blackjack table last night. Except now the focus of his need…was this guy.

Rhys staggered backward. “Who are you?” The question came out hoarse and strained.

Aithan followed him. “I won’t hurt you.”

“The fuck you won’t.” Rhys watched him take another step, then another, then brought his hand up as if he was going to push him away. Aithan reached out to grab his hand, which was what Rhys had been counting on. He slapped the handcuff over Aithan’s wrist and held on to the other end of it grimly. “You’re coming with me. I’m going to sort this out when you’re standing behind bars.”

Aithan twisted his wrist experimentally, looking down at the cuff. “This isn’t necessary. I’m not dangerous.”

“Not in the back of the cruiser, you won’t be.” He opened the back door and stepped around Aithan, so he was at his back. “Get in.”

Aithan looked over his shoulder. “This isn’t a good idea.”

“Humor me. Get the fuck in.”

“You have no idea what is going on, do you?”

“I’m going to find out.” Rhys pushed on the back of the man’s head to get him to duck and climb in and to protect his head from the top of the door.

Aithan didn’t fight it. He settled on the back seat and looked up at Rhys. “You really don’t know, do you?”

Rhys attached the other end of the cuff to the iron bar that had been mounted at the top of the door frame, bringing his arm up. He didn’t answer the question. He wasn’t sure he had an answer anyway.

He got behind the wheel and turned the cruiser around, intending to head back downtown to the station there. He slid back out into traffic and tried to relax. His heart was thundering and his gut churning. He was over-reacting badly. The man had done nothing wrong.

Aithan leaned forward to speak through the wire grill that separated the front and back seats. “You can feel it, too, can’t you?”

“Sit back and shut up.”

“Why are you denying it? I can feel your tension. Your need.”

Rhys’ whole body seemed to jerk in reaction and he gripped the steering wheel harder.

“You don’t understand any of it,” Aithan murmured. “But your body knows.”

You have no idea what your problems really are. Luke, another stranger.

Rhys swore under his breath and swerved sharply to the curb. Ginny Jacobs’ place was two houses away. It was time to ask some on-point questions. He turned his head to look at Aithan through the mesh. “Stay put.”

He almost ran up the garden walk to the gorgeous old Victorian house on the corner and rapped on the door sharply. His heart wouldn’t quit pounding and he couldn’t get rid of the sensation that Aithan was sitting in the cruiser, watching him carefully through the window. Carefully and patiently.

Ginny opened the door herself which was what made her one of the city’s most successful B&Bs. “Sheriff!” She sounded delighted. “How are you? It’s been…why, months since I saw you.” Her hair seemed grayer than the last time they’d spoken and her face a little more lined, but other than that, Ginny never seemed to change. She had been running the bed and breakfast since her husband had died almost twenty years before.

“It’s business, Ginny, sorry. I sent a customer your way last night. Did he stay here? Name is Luke. Tall and white hair.”

“Mr. Alvey. You sent him? You’re so sweet. Mr. Alvey did stay here last night.”

“He’s not still here?”

“I know where he probably is,” she said. “He was asking about the park on Presque Isle. I told him about the old fire tower on the east end. He thought he’d hike out to it and have a look around. I packed him a thermos of tea.” She wrinkled her nose. “Green tea,” she added.

Trees. Rhys would have bet the guy would be on the lake somewhere. He’d mentioned the water at least twice. Only here he was, hiking among trees, instead. But there were a lot of lakes and ponds and still water in the park. Every summer they usually had to go search for someone who had stepped off the marked trails and managed to get themselves trapped by water barriers and couldn’t figure out how to get home.

Rhys gave Ginny a tight smile. “Thanks.”

“Did he do something, Sheriff?” Ginny asked. “He seemed very pleasant.”

“He hasn’t broken any laws I’m aware of. Yet.” Rhys winked at her. “The day is still young.”

She giggled, which was an incongruous sound for such an elegant and self-contained woman, and waved him away.

Rhys went back to the car, weighing up his options. The old fire tower could be reached by a seven mile hiking trail that wasn’t wide enough for vehicles. If Ginny gave Luke Alvey one of her thermos flasks, then she was expecting him back tonight. Rhys could wait for him to turn up.

But just waiting, when the lead weight in his chest was squeezing tighter with every passing minute, seemed intolerable.

“A friend?” Aithan asked, when Rhys sat behind the wheel.

“None of your business.”

“The harder you fight this,” Aithan said, his voice mellow, “the harder it will get.”

Rhys caught his gaze in the rear-view mirror, startled into looking at him. Aithan stared back at him with a calm that seemed almost resigned. But behind the resignation was a weariness that Rhys had only ever seen in the eyes of very old men—a draining of the soul that took away any joy in life.

He started the car, wrenching the key around in the slot and actually felt the hard plastic casing bend under his fingers. “I don’t have time to drop you off at the station, so be a wise guy and shut up. If you piss me off too much, I will go out of my way to have you booked with every charge I can think of, starting with vagrancy.”

“Whatever you say, Sheriff.”

His answer didn’t make Rhys any happier.

You have no idea what is happening here, do you?

Rhys was starting to feel that perhaps he really was out of his depth.

Chapter Five

The fire tower was at the top of a low-sloped hill, the highest part of the island that made up Presque Isle State Park, which was with this one exception a flat, almost featureless island. Lindal reached it just before noon and stood at the foot of the tower to look around. The tower had been out of commission for more than a decade and there were heavy chains and warning signs everywhere, forbidding anyone from climbing the tower.

But Ginny Jacobs had assured him the view was spectacular even from the base of the tower and well worth the hike. Lindal had believed her. Ginny was what Beth liked to call ‘good people’.

He turned slowly, looking out over the tops of the trees, trying to ignore the spurt of guilt thinking about Beth created. He shifted the backpack over his shoulders into a more comfortable position, flexing his shoulders to shift the straps and heard the thermos inside gurgle.

The view really was magnificent, especially to the north, where Lake Erie twinkled like blue cloth right up to the horizon. The city of Erie was to the south, with more blue water between the park and the mainland. The city was a brown smudge on the shore.

Most of the trees were evergreens, making a green carpet down the long sloping hill to the lake. When the tower had been in commission, the park wardens had kept a fifty yard radius around the base clear of flammable growth. Now the trees were creeping back and weeds and grasses and small bushes grew right up to the iron struts. There was a bald section to the south that once had probably been a small parking lot. The compacted earth wouldn’t let anything grow. Time would fix that, though. Eventually the green, growing things would have their way.

It was very peaceful here. The early morning breeze had disappeared, so now not even the air whispered through branches and tree tops. Overnight frost had killed off mosquitoes and the bears were already slumbering. Silence seemed to grip the clearing.

Lindal walked a slow circle around the base of the tower, stopping to study the landscape spread out below, when something caught his interest. He had nearly finished the full circuit when he decided that he wasn’t imagining it—he wasn’t alone anymore.

He finished the circuit, giving whoever it was time to study him and see that he was harmless. Then he turned to look toward the trees where he thought they were hiding. “Why don’t you come out and say hello?”

Silence.

Then the trees moved as if they were swaying in a breeze, except that there wasn’t one. A figure stepped out from between them. One cautious step. Then another.

Lindal looked them over. Tall and very slender, like saplings. Male or female…it was hard to tell. But their clothing was mottled greenish brown and their flesh was brown. Their hair was silvery green, a short crop at the top of their heads.

Lindal pulled in a breath, then let it out. “Come here,” he said, keeping his voice low and free of tension. “I can’t talk to you from there. You did want to talk to me, didn’t you?”

The dryad nodded. Lindal decided it was a ‘he’. He crept closer, almost sidling like a wild creature…which he was. Lindal had never met a tree dryad before. They were creatures of Earth only. There were none on his home world because the trees there belonged to the Elves.

The dryad moved between the rough undergrowth built up around the tower, until he was three feet away, then his courage seemed to desert him. He stopped, half-turned so that one foot was pointing back toward the trees. It was a flight position. He was ready to bolt.

Lindal gave him a small smile. “You’re very brave. Something must be badly wrong if you risk exposure like this.”

The dryad nodded, his eyes on Lindal’s.

“Can you speak?”

Again, the nod.

Lindal waited.

“You are Elvish,” the dryad said, forcing Lindal to reassess her gender. Her voice was light, almost bodiless. Like the wind in the trees.

“I am Elvish.”

“I do not know any Elves.”

“You’re a first for me, too.”

“You speak as human.”

“I have lived among humans—I have lived as human—for several years.”

“You have not been discovered?”

“I have friends who protect me.”

“From the Grimoré.”

Lindal drew in a sharp breath. “Yes,” he agreed, letting it out, but his heart was running heavily. “They’re here, aren’t they?”

The dryad shifted on her toes, as if even contemplating the Grimoré was more than she could bear. “Their whelps are here.”

“The Vampeen?”

She nodded. “They grow here.”

“They’re born here?” Lindal was startled.

“They grow here. They only grow.”

The dryad could speak English, but her vocabulary was limited. “Grow like trees,” Lindal interpreted. “They thrive here?”

Again, the nod. “While their masters are elsewhere, they grow stronger and bigger.”

“The Grimoré farm them out here to feed and grow stronger,” Lindal guessed.

“Yes, feed. Feed.” She repeated the word fiercely, like it was exactly what she meant. Then distress seemed to erupt from her like radiation. Lindal could feel it and his heart lurched.

“They feed on your kind?”

“They feed…on all.” She looked at him, her expression sad. “You have the mark. You know them. You stop them.”

“You can see a mark?”

“Is here.” She touched her chest. “Here.” She patted her cheek and Lindal guessed she meant in his head. His heart and head had a mark that others could see. Others who were sensitive to their world. Well, that wasn’t a big surprise. Whatever forces had foreseen the coming of the Grimoré and orchestrated the prophecies had anticipated almost every need.

“You need my help with the vampeen that move among your trees?” he asked.

“We are faster.” She smiled in a way that seemed to be full of mischief. “Silent like trees.”

The dryads out-ran the vampeen, who probably clomped through the trees like wild boar on a scent trail, ramming down anything that got in their way.

She stepped closer, this time turning her body to face him and looked up at him. She wasn’t much shorter than him, but three of her could fit into the same space he was taking up. Her eyes were the same brown as her skin. “You. Me.” Her hand moved between them, the long fingers pointing to each of them in turn. “Together?”

Lindal puzzled it out. “Friends?”

“Together,” she repeated. Then her fingers shaped a circle. “Grove.”

Together. Grove. A group of trees. “We’re on the same side,” Lindal told her. “I will help you if you tell me what you need.”

“My friend. Go with you.”

“A dryad?”

She shook her head.

“Someone not as fast as you?”

A nod.

“Someone the vampeen can reach?”

Another nod, this one more vigorous. She held up her hand, above her head, the wrist bent so that her hand was flat, facing the sky. Then she called out something. Lindal couldn’t say for sure it was even a language. It didn’t seem to have any syllables.

Then she smiled.

A tiny creature appeared on her hand, settling onto the platform with a glitter of gossamer wings.

Lindal stayed very still in case he startled it, his mind racing. The little lady walked to the edge of the dryad’s fingers and bent over from the waist to examine Lindal with big eyes. She was a human woman in perfect miniature, except for the wings that stirred on her back. Her long loose hair lifted at the movement of the wings. So did the very fine robe she wore, the hem fluttering. She was standing perfectly still, but she seemed to be in constant motion. She was barely two and a half inches high.

“What is she?” Lindal spoke softly.

“Ailill.”

Lindal recognized the name. It was very old and very Irish. Ailill were elf-kind, except that no Irish clans had ever had contact with elves. So the word actually meant… “Pixie,” Lindal interpreted. “The vampeen hunt them? What for? They aren’t even a bite’s worth.”

The pixie gave a soft shriek and disappeared and the dryad took a step back, her arm lowering.

“What did I say?” Lindal asked. He studied the dryad. “What do they do to the pixies?”

The dryad’s eyes filled with tears. “Play,” she whispered.

Sport, Lindal interpreted. The vampeen hunted them for sport.

The dryad turned on her toes and for the first time he noticed that she wore no shoes. She pointed to her back. Then she turned to look at him and held up a hand, one long finger pointing up into the sky. With her other hand, she made a plucking motion toward her upheld finger.

Linda’s heart gave another sickening shift. The vampeen caught the pixies in some way that defeated their ability to teleport, which is what he guessed the dryad’s friend had done a moment ago. Then they plucked their wings off.

“Tell her to come back. I’ll take her with me. I’ll protect her.” He had no idea how he could do that when he lived in New York. He couldn’t walk down Fifth Avenue with a real pixie in his hand. But he would worry about it later.

The dryad looked up at the sky. Lindal looked, too.

The pixie appeared in the air just above him, her wings beating fast as she hovered. She looked at the dryad, who made some more of the odd sounds she had used to call her in the first place. Then the pixie turned in mid-air to study Lindal.

Curiosity touch him. Pleasure that he was friend to Clídna and wanted to help. But Ferr was sad because she had to leave her friends behind…

Lindal gasped. You are telepathic? He made the words form in his mind.

Happy excitement reached him. The pixie, Ferr, dropped down so that she was at eye level. Her head tilted as she looked at him with her big eyes. I like talking.

To Ferr, who didn’t speak any other way than mentally, this would be talking.

With the same breath-robbing abruptness as before, Ferr gave a soft cry and disappeared. Clídna, the dryad, took off with the suddenness of a startled deer, racing across the open ground with vision-blurring speed to disappear between the trees.

Then Lindal heard the sound that had alarmed them. It was a vehicle engine, working hard, in low gear. It revved and died off, the sound muffled by the trees, but clear enough for him to guess it was a heavy engine with six or eight cylinders. Something powerful.

There was a break in the trees almost directly opposite the bald patch in the growth around the tower. That would be what was left of the road.

Lindal considered disappearing himself. But he didn’t know if Ferr would be able to find him again if he moved. Unlike Dryads, pixies were as much a myth to elves as to humans. He didn’t know anything about them. But their fate at the hands of the vampeen infuriated him.

Even as he was deciding, the car appeared between the trees, a plume of dust rising behind it. It was the Sheriff’s cruiser, the gold in the badge on the side of the car flashing in the morning sunlight.

That decided the matter. Lindal stayed where he was and watched the car slide and swerve as it made fresh tracks in the knee-high grasses, bumping over hidden holes and mounds in the rocky dirt. He couldn’t see through the windshield clearly because the sun was bouncing off it, but he thought there might be two people in the car.

Sheriff Wisherd had pricked his curiosity, last night. He had asked questions that made Lindal wonder if he had been able to hear his thoughts. Law enforcement types were generally not sensitive. They couldn’t afford to be. Blake, the trinities’ solitary NYPD representative, seemed to be a rare exception although he couldn’t read thoughts—not directly. He could read his trinity’s emotions through their shared bond, but not actual thoughts.

So Wisherd was a mental question mark and now here he was. At least, Lindal assumed it was Wisherd. It was unlikely to be one of his deputies.

The car came to a skidding halt on the hardpan, dust billowing in front of it. Lindal waved his hand, trying to not to breathe any of it in.

Rhys Wisherd got out of the car and came striding toward Lindal, leaving the car door open. “I need to speak to you.” His voice was harsh.

“Clearly. You’ve gone to some effort to track me down.” Now the car wasn’t sitting directly in the sun, Lindal could see through the windscreen. There was someone else there. They were in the back seat, their arm held up toward the top of the door. Cuffs? “Who did you arrest? Why did you bring them here?”

Rhys looked surprised. “He’s not arrested. But that’s part of what I want to talk to you about.”

“If he’s not arrested, then shouldn’t you turn him lose? You’re risking all sorts of human rights violations.”

Frustration touched Rhys’ face. Then he dug in his shirt pocket. “Fine. He can be part of the conversation. You can figure out what the hell he’s talking about.” He stalked back to the car with angry strides, opened the back door and reached inside to unlock the cuffs.

Then he helped the man out, a hand under his elbow. He didn’t let go of his arm, but pulled him over to where Lindal was standing in the shade cast by the tower.

Lindal studied the man and a cold sensation prickled along the base of his spine. There was nothing openly obvious that would make it stand out among humans, but the crawling uneasiness Lindal felt was undeniable. He spread his feet better and brought his hand up to rest against his waist. It was the best position from which to drop his wrist and trigger the spring-loaded holster strapped to his forearm. It would deliver the carbon-bladed knife into his hand in less than a second.

The creature was studying Lindal just as curiously. When they got close enough, it smiled. “I haven’t seen an Elf for fifty years or more. Then the rumors are true, you are back on Earth.”

Lindal was shocked. If this creature was what he thought he was, then he knew better than to speak about non-humans in front of a human. He glanced at Rhys, then back at the creature.

The creature smiled. His human fascia was very attractive. “There’s something odd happening. He’s part of it.” He nodded at Rhys, who was looking from one to the other.

“Elf?” Rhys said, sounding puzzled.

Lindal cleared his throat. “I can’t pin you down. You’ve got all the hallmarks of a demon, but you’re not one. Not exactly.”

Rhys looked at the creature. “What the fuck?”

“Sheriff,” Lindal began. “This is going to be hard to swallow—”

He was interrupted by a soft squealing alarm, right by his ear. Then a tug on his hair. The tugging shifted his hair away from his ear, then the tugging started on his ear. Frantic thoughts entered his mind. Chief among them was a mental image of teeth. Lots of elongated and pointed yellow teeth, crossing each other, leaning at angles, but wickedly sharp.

“Vampeen,” Lindal said. “They’ve tracked you here. They’re coming.” He dropped his knife into his hand while the demon looked around wildly, alarm painting his face.

Rhys held up a hand. “Just slow down, will you? Use small words.”

“We don’t have time to slow down and explain it to you,” the demon told him. “You’d better get your gun out, Sheriff. You’re going to need it.”

* * * * *

Around ten the next morning, Cora put aside the hand lathe and headed into the kitchen and pulled out all the equipment and supplies to bake bread. She found baking a pleasant activity but what she secretly enjoyed the most about it was the sounds of appreciation her neighbors made when they smelled the newly-baked loaves. The expressions on their faces when they ate them were wonderful.

Cora made the loaves ready to put into the oven. The timing was good. Her two neighbors would soon be stopping for lunch and would be able to enjoy fresh bread with their meal.

She had just put the bread into the oven when the feeling washed over her like a wave of warm, fetid air.

She looked up and around her kitchen, her senses kicking into overdrive. There was a threat, her gut was telling her. But nothing had changed in the house, except that it was broad daylight outside and the sunlight was spilling through the front windows onto the carpet. She hadn’t noticed the dawn, except in an instinctive way that had barely registered on her consciousness.

Cora got to her feet and stretched her hearing to its fullest. Nothing was moving, not even Meta, who tended to rattle around her townhouse on Sundays, cleaning with vigor.

Cora swiveled and looked at the window. Through the glass, she could hear that quintessential sound of summer—a lawn mower. It was half a block away. Then there was traffic on the street. Kids in the park across the road. Dogs in the off-leash area, about a mile away. Their barking and voices were very distinct.

But nothing was a threat. Nothing was out of the ordinary.

So why was her heart beating so hard? If she didn’t get it under control, the adrenaline would overwhelm her. She was already starting to shake.

Then another wave of the whatever-it-was swept over her. This time, she could feel the taste of coppery spit in her mouth. She was within an inch of flat out panic, the human sort of panic.

In her mind she heard a wordless, voiceless cry for help and without thinking, she leaned toward the silent call.

Sunlight coalesced around her. Trees, wide-open sky, a breeze on her face and the sharp, astringent smell of pine. She thrust out a foot to keep her balance and looked around wildly. The panic was close.

There were three other people already in the clearing and she recognized the old fire tower behind them. She was on Presque Isle. They were all looking at her with odd expressions. One of them was Rhys Wisherd. The other was the man—the creature—from last night.

“I jumped here?” she asked. She had heard of such things from older mentors, but never someone jumping blindly to a location they had never been to before, without knowing what was already in the space they were aiming for.

The tall, blond man moved toward her. He was holding a black knife down low and there was something on his shoulder. A small creature, hanging on to his ear….

“I will explain everything later,” he said. “Right now, we’re about to be attacked by vampeen. You need to take these two and jump back to where you came from. To safety.” He looked over his shoulder. “Both of you, come over here.”

“And leave you alone?” Rhys sounded offended.

“It won’t be for long,” the blond man said. “She can come back and collect me. Then I’ll know where you are.” He gave a curiously mischievous smile. “I’ve had practice dealing with these things. I’ll be fine.”

Low growling came from the trees and it was a feral sound that made the hairs on the back of Cora’s neck stand up. She held out her arms. She had dozens of questions. Hundreds of them. But vampeen, she knew about. Despite her best efforts to not get involved, she had heard the talk. She suddenly didn’t want to see one. Questions could wait. “Come here,” she demanded. Now that the blond man had suggested she could take two of them with her, she knew she could do it. She knew what to do.

Lindal pushed the creature toward her. “Go,” he said roughly.

Rhys moved over to her side. “I have no idea what is happening here, but…” He tucked his arm around her waist and looked at the other man. “Hurry up,” he snapped.

The man stepped into the arc of her other arm and she stiffened, waiting for the touch of cold, but it didn’t come. All she felt was warm, pliable flesh beneath the leather.

She gripped both their waists and took a breath. “Hold on,” she told them and thought about her house that she had just left behind. The sun on the carpet, the sound of the mower. Then she mentally leaned forward and the air around them changed once more.

It was her kitchen. She turned to Rhys. “Give me your gun.”

He was looking around the room, like a man that who starting to put things together. Then he looked at her. “What?”

She reached for his holster and he gripped her wrist. “Hey!”

“I have to go back and get the other one. I won’t jump back there without a weapon. Give it to me.”

“Give her the gun,” the other man said quietly. “She’ll bring it back.”

Rhys let go of her wrist, so she pulled the gun out and let it hang from her fingers.

“You know how to use it?” She could almost see Rhys’ sheriff role taking over, as he started to worry about a gun in the hands of an untrained civilian.

“Yes, I know how to use it.” She mentally leaned forward again. It was already easier to do.

The clearing formed around her once more and this time, the snarling and growling was all around her. She lifted the gun as the ugly creatures turned to spot her, their jaws open, the crooked teeth gleaming from the saliva coating them. Their eyes were blood red and glowing. They looked vaguely human, but had sharply pointed ears and were bent over like dogs, their hands supporting them on the ground.

One leapt at her and she fired the gun by reflex. It was a .38 police special and the kick probably would have dislocated her shoulder, except that she was stronger than most people guessed. The vampeen was flung several feet away then rolled, yelping.

The blond man was using his knife. It was red with blood and gleamed as he swung it with a vicious efficiency that proved he really did know how to fight these things.

“To me!” he cried. “Use the gun.”

She fired carefully, clearing a space between her and him. The vampeen didn’t like guns and bullets and were backing away cautiously. She ran to the blond man’s side, threw her arm around his waist and jumped.

Chapter Six

Beth almost dropped the pitcher of iced tea when Lindal appeared in the middle of the living room. She put the pitcher back on the kitchen counter as he looked around quickly and spotted her. He came over to her and hugged her. Hard.

“I know why I had to leave.” He spoke quickly. “I know why it was pulling me away.”

“You found another trinity.”

Lindal stepped back, his expression shocked. “Yes. How did you…?”

“Mia and Sera. They both were called away by an overpowering compulsion, too. It was only after they left town that we figured out what made you leave. Mia is in California and Sera is in Florida. Zack went down there to help her orient her three. Alexander is with Mia. I stayed here because I thought you would return.” She smiled up at him. “You’ve found your three.”

Lindal blew out his breath. “I’ve just found them. I just figured out what is going on. Can you come right now?”

There was something behind his ear. Beth blinked and refocused, but there was nothing there. His hair was parted over his ear and normally he was careful to keep it brushed over the top, so the point didn’t show.

Lindal’s eyes rolled to the corners, as if he was trying to look at his ear, too. “It’s all right,” he said, speaking to the air. “Beth is a friend. You can come out, Ferr.”

He held up his hand and something fluttered into view, exactly the same way that Lindal appeared when he teleported. One moment there was nothing but air, then there was….

“Oh!” Beth instinctively kept her voice down.

The little thing on his hand looked like a woman, only she stood just over two inches high and had pretty, glittering wings that reminded Beth of dragonfly wings. This, then, was Ferr. She was standing on Lindal’s palm, her hands on her hips, looking up at him with a stance that said she was pissed.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know if you would be able to follow me here,” Lindal said, looking down at her.

Her hands dropped and she spun to face Beth. Her head tilted as she looked at her.

Beth tried hard not to laugh in sheer joy. The little creature was charming.

Lindal did laugh. “No, she is human,” he said.

Ferr’s eyes widened and she shrieked. It was a formless sound on the very edge of Beth’s hearing. Then she disappeared.

“What is she?”

“A pixie.”

Beth pressed her lips together. “A pixie. Really?”

“I knew about tree dryads, but pixies are new to me, too.” He pulled her up against him.

Beth gasped at the contact and wound her arms around his neck. “You’ve been having adventures, I can tell.”

“Let me show you.” He kissed her, then jumped.

* * * * *

Cora found a glass deep at the back of a cupboard. She picked up the decanter on the sideboard next to the dining table and poured three fingers of scotch and held it out to Rhys. “You look like you need it,” she told him.

He pushed his gun back into the holster and took the glass.

“Could I have one?” the other man said from where he stood by the end of the kitchen counter.

Rhys lifted the glass toward him. “Cora, this is Aithan. Aithan, Cora.”

Aithan nodded at her. “You’re passing, too.”

Alarm touched her. “Let’s just save the conversation until the other guy gets back. He seems to know what is going on. More than either of you.”

“I’m catching up fast,” Aithan said.

“Luke,” Rhys said. “His name is Luke. I met him last night.”

Aithan was studying her closely. She scowled at him. “What?”

“You’re very beautiful.”

Cora rolled her eyes. “Of course you would have to say that.” Sometime during the night, when she hadn’t been thinking of him at all—or the damn kiss—the part of her brain that went on figuring things out in the background had supplied her with the answer. She knew what he was.

“I don’t have to say anything at all,” he replied. “But I wanted to.”

“Why does he have to?” Rhys demanded.

Cora grimaced. “He’s an incubus.” She looked at Rhys. “I’m surprised he didn’t try to hit on you, if you were in his company for more than a minute or two.”

Rhys’ jaw dropped. “An incubus? You mean, demons and stuff?”

“That’s what the vampire means,” Aithan said dryly.

Horror spilled through her and Cora took a step toward him. “You dare speak that aloud. Who gave you the right?”

Aithan turned to face her, his arms dropping.

Rhys was suddenly there between them, pushing them both back with his hands. “Calm down.” His voice was flat and hard with authority. “Both of you back off. Right now.”

Cora didn’t move. Fury was making her bones ache. She glared at Aithan and he stared back calmly. He had the sort of eyes that, if she wasn’t so angry, she would find almost mesmerizing.

“I mean it,” Rhys added. “Move away. There are too many questions to be answered before you two can go at each other freely. Something has been hunting folk in my city and I think we just met them in person, out there at the fire tower. So I want you to be civil until I get my answers.”

Cora made herself move back even though she really wanted to grab Aithan by the neck and maybe tear his throat out.

Aithan didn’t seem to feel threatened at all. He took a step back to match hers, so there was four feet of carpet between them.

Rhys pushed a hand through his unruly hair. “Thank you,” he said flatly. “Now, Aithan…you’re really an incubus?”

Cora stared at him. Rhys asked the question like he might ask a human if they were really Caucasian, or really left-handed. There wasn’t any of the usual incredulity or flat refusal to believe that she had encountered in other humans.

Aithan let out a deep breath. “Does it matter?”

“Yes, he’s an incubus,” Cora said. “He seduces humans. That’s how he feeds. He has to have sex or he dies.”

Aithan’s gaze met hers. “You have to have blood, or you die. Which of us is the more evil? You tear people’s necks open.”

Cora felt another little jump of shock at someone speaking so baldly and so openly about her nature. She couldn’t help glancing at Rhys to see how he was taking it.

He gave a tiny shrug. “I already knew,” he said quietly.

Cora’s jaw unhinged. “You knew?” Of all the surprises she had been handed in the last hour, this was the largest. The hardest to accept. The thick weight was back in her chest and her guts swirled in a vaguely nauseas way. “But…you never said anything, you never even gave a hint.”

Again, the tiny shrug. “I figured it was your secret. One day, I thought you might trust me enough to tell me. So I waited.”

Aithan smiled. “The sacrifices of true love.”

Rhys’ gaze dropped away from her suddenly. He glanced at Aithan. “If you use sex for food, then I’d say you’re the last one who gets to judge human relationships.”

“You don’t think three hundred years of relating to humans in the most intimate way possible doesn’t make me an expert?”

“He’s a philosopher, too,” Cora said dryly.

“Harvard and Cambridge,” Aithan said. “And a third doctorate from Stanford, but most philosophers don’t think that counts.”

“You’re shitting me,” Rhys said, staring at him.

Cora realized she was staring, too. She had been joking, but Aithan’s response was startling. Then her time sense nudged her. “We should move out of the way.” The ten minutes the blond man—Luke—had said he would be gone were just about up. “Leave room in the middle of the floor.”

They all backed up. Rhys sat on the arm of the wingchair next to the lamp and Aithan put his back against the counter once more.

“How much longer?” Rhys asked her.

Luke appeared in the middle of the floor where they had been standing. He had his arms around a woman with spectacular red hair that hung past her waist and emerald green eyes that sized up everyone quickly. She stepped away from Luke and glanced at him.

“Cora, Aithan and Rhys,” Luke said, pointing them out to her. “Everyone, this is Seaveth, the leader of the war against the Grimoré. Seaveth will be able to answer every question you could possibly think of.”

There was a little glitter of gold above his head, then a small breeze pushed at his hair over one shoulder. A tiny face peered out from around the edge of his ear.

“And this is Ferr,” Lindal added.

* * * * *

Seaveth was an amazing woman for a human, Cora decided. The redhead sat in the kitchen chair with her legs crossed, her hands in her lap and answered every question as promised, while everyone else ate Cora’s fresh bread, honey and preserves, gulping it down like they hadn’t eaten in months.

Because Cora was aligned with the Blackarcher vampire clan that operated out of Toronto, she was aware that the New York clan—the Earthwing Clan—were leading the war against the Grimoré, trying to fulfill the Seaveth prophecies and defeat the Grimoré with their trinities. But it was news to Cora that the trinities didn’t stop at just three.

Aithan knew of the war, too. Demons were known allies of the Grimoré, but when Lindal pointed that out, Aithan gave him a small smile. “The entire race did not sign up. We choose for ourselves. Tell me there have never been any corrupt or rebellious Elves.”

Lindal stared at him, a fine line between his brows.

“Yes, of course,” Aithan said, as if he had answered. “You were a rebel yourself.” He gave a small smile and went back to leaning against the counter, his arms crossed. Of everyone in the room, he seemed to be the calmest.

Rhys seem to be having a hard time accepting anything they said. He was gripping the glass that Cora had given him, his knuckles white. “Yes, but how do you know that we three are the next trinity?” he demanded of Seaveth.

Luke—Lindal, Cora mentally corrected herself—answered for Seaveth. “You already know you are. Consider the strange things that have happened lately. The vampeen. Ferr.”

The little pixie, who was standing on the gleaming wood surface of the dining table, gave a little chirrup and a bow.

But Lindal didn’t smile. He was watching Rhys. “You read my mind last night. At the diner.”

Rhys lift his head to look at Lindal. His expression was wounded, like Luke had betrayed him by speaking of such things.

“There’s more,” Seaveth added. “All of you will discover changes. You might be faster. Stronger. Your senses more acute. Aithan, Cora, you might find you develop human characteristics.”

Cora swallowed and looked down at her hands. She was sitting at the other end of the table from where Seaveth sat and Lindal stood, with his hand on the back of Seaveth’s chair. Sometimes Lindal’s hand rested on her shoulder. Cora guessed he wasn’t aware that he was constantly touching her. It had to be an Elvish thing. Or perhaps it was a result of their bonding.

Rhys stood up. “I don’t like this,” he said flatly.

Hear, hear, Cora added silently.

“You’re asking us to take your word for it that we’re…what? Predestined to…to be together,” Rhys added.

“To be a trinity,” Seaveth. “I’m curious, Rhys. Most humans have a hard time accepting the idea of supernaturals like vampires and elves—”

Ferr trilled.

“And pixies,” Seaveth added, “but you took all that in your stride and have moved on to objections about the trinity itself.”

Rhys scrubbed at his hair awkwardly. “I knew Coralee was a vampire, a long time ago.”

“It didn’t seem to bother you even then. You kept the fact to yourself,” Seaveth pointed out.

He gave a shrug. “My mother was fae and she said my grandmother was, too. I know she wasn’t delusional. I saw things. I watched her whistle up a storm one day because she felt the weather was too dry for the gardens.” He glanced at Cora and she thought she could see something resembling apology in his glance. “So when I figured out Cora was a vampire, it wasn’t such a long step for me.”

“How did you work out what I am?” Cora asked.

“You don’t sleep. You don’t eat. You don’t change, not even the length of your hair.” He seemed to be even more embarrassed. “I saw your fangs, once. You hid them and a normal guy might have missed it but by then I was already starting to wonder if you were exactly human. That proved to me you weren’t.”

“They’re incisors.” Cora could feel her cheeks heating with real, genuine embarrassment, something she hadn’t felt in a very long time.

“He’s been watching you,” Aithan said. “Closely.”

Cora looked down at her hands again, uncomfortable.

“You three will have to work many things out between you,” Seaveth said, her voice firm. “Rhys, I’m sorry, but the trinity isn’t something you can ignore. The trinities are real and they are powerful. They don’t give you any choice—you’re right about that. But whatever force it is that arranges these things often seems to be benign, even thoughtful. You will find that the bond provides compensations you can’t anticipate or even understand right now.”

“And if I don’t want to do this?” Rhys asked.

“You can try to walk away,” Seaveth replied. “The last trinity to form before yours tried it. They separated for three days, determined to end the trinity. They failed.”

“The compulsion is so strong,” Lindal added. “The bond itself influences your feelings, your emotions, your thoughts…even love itself. We don’t know what would happen if you chose to ignore it for a long time.”

“I imagine you’d go mad,” Aithan said. His tone was dry.

“That is our theory, yes,” Seaveth said.

The room was silent while Rhys mulled that over and Aithan watched him. Cora gripped her hands together, staying silent, waiting for Rhys to protest once more.

Instead, he sighed. “As you say, we have some things to figure out.”

“Of course you do,” Seaveth said, getting to her feet. “This is life-changing. I won’t pretend it is anything less.” She gave them all a lovely smile. “And now I must warn you that on top of everything else you’re about to deal with, the Grimoré will try to stop your trinity from forming. They have become creative in the last two years in their efforts to halt the trinities.” She glanced at Lindal. “Would you mind?”

Lindal lifted his shirt with both hands, exposing his chest and abdomen. The flesh was a patchwork of scars, still pink and fresh.

Cora winced.

“Vampeen?” Rhys asked, his voice low.

“Even after your trinity forms,” Seaveth said, “they will still try to destroy you. You have already become a target for them.”

“Oh. Joy,”Aithan said.

“My advice is to avoid moving about in the open as much as possible. You’re vulnerable until the bond is formed and your full abilities develop.” Seaveth gave a small smile. “Don’t feel that you are being singled out. The trinities are not their only target. The Grimoré are recruiting allies among supernaturals. Gargoyles, furies, demons…we suspect they may even have a genie among their ranks now.”

Aithan’s brows came together, the first time he had shown any emotion at all since Seaveth had begun speaking. “Not all demons,” he said quietly.

“No, not all,” Seaveth agreed. “Like many of the supernaturals, demons are facing a civil war among their number, as individuals chose sides. The Grimoré are holding, watching species annihilate themselves with no effort required by them.” She looked at Rhys. “Your missing people were taken by the vampeen. I’m sure you’ve made that connection already.”

Rhys nodded.

“It’s possible there is a clan of gargoyles in the area, too. One of our hunters tracked a gargoyle just a mile north of the Canadian border, a few weeks ago. Humans are food for them, too.”

Rhys swallowed.

“It’s a lot to take in,” Seaveth said, “but your instincts to protect the people in your county will help you make the adjustment. We’re doing what you have been doing, only on a bigger scale.”

Then she glanced up at Lindal. Her smile turned warm and her expression changed to a soft, intimate one. Lindal put his arm around her waist. It was a private moment, a glimpse at the bond between them.

“I’ll take Seaveth back to New York,” Lindal said, “then I’ll be in my room at Ginny’s house. You know how to contact me. How to contact any of us, especially Seaveth.”

Seaveth glanced at Cora. You alone can reach me this way.

Cora blinked, absorbing this new fact. I can talk to you?

Yes. Warm regard touched her, making her feel young for a moment, a sensation that was novel.

Then Lindal bent his knees and before she could see his boots leave the floor, they were gone, leaving Cora alone with Rhys and Aidan.

Chapter Seven

The silence in the room forced Cora to speak. “I need you to leave. Both of you.”

Rhys looked shocked but Aithan gave a wise, knowing smile. “You’re going to deny the bonding.”

“I deny there’s any bonding at all.”

“Because you already wanted him before it started,” Aithan shot back.

Cora shut her eyes, humiliation making it too difficult to look at either of them. “Because the idea of sex with a…a thing like you makes me feel sick.”

“Liar.” Aithan’s voice was very soft. “If there’s no bond, how do you explain your sudden ability to teleport?”

Cora glared at him.

Rhys held up a hand. “Stop!”

Cora pressed her lips together to silence herself. Aithan leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms once more, his leather jacket creaking as the shoulders strained it. There were scuff marks on the bottom of the sleeves from where she had sent him skidding across the parking lot. There was even a small tear, but there were no wounds on his hands or wrists.

“Aithan, can I drop you somewhere?” Rhys said.

“You’re leaving?” Cora had been braced for an argument.

“I think we all need a little time to adjust.”

“Speak for yourself,” Aithan said.

Rhys sighed. “Very well, Cora and I need time. So let’s leave the lady’s house, just like she asked. We’ll agree to meet later.” He glanced out the window. “It’s past noon. Let’s meet for dinner. There’s a diner out by the highway that is cheap and good. Agreed?” He looked at them both.

Aithan seemed amused. “If that’s what you think you need.”

“I do.”

Cora held her breath as they both glanced at her then headed to the front door. She didn’t release her breath until she hurried to shut the door behind them and put the chain on it.

She went back to the kitchen and into the butler’s pantry and pulled out her cleaning supplies. She kept tight control on her thoughts, not allowing anything but the job at hand to enter. She went upstairs and pulled all the towels and mats out of the bathroom and began to scrub it, starting at the ceiling.

While she was the only person in the house she could move as fast as she wanted to. She was down to scrubbing the floor on her hands and knees when the front door bell chimed, twenty minutes later.

She dropped the sponge in the bucket and got to her feet. By concentrating on the next step and the one after that, she could block out everything. So she focused on walking downstairs and putting her boots back on so she didn’t answer the door barefoot. She pushed her hair back into place with automatic movements, without bothering to look in a mirror. She went to the door, already listing out the steps after that—getting rid of the caller, then returning to the bathroom and finishing the scrubbing, then washing the mats, then….

Rhys stood on the concrete step, leaning with one hand against the doorframe. He straightened up as she opened the door.

Cora drew in an unsteady breath as her concentration broke and all the unwelcome thoughts barreled back into her mind. “I don’t want you here.”

His blue eyes were grave. “I couldn’t stay away. Let me in, Cora. I don’t like being exposed out here.”

She couldn’t refute that. So she stepped aside and shut the door after him.

Rhys didn’t step into the room. He stayed right where he was—in front of her and far too close.

Cora stepped back out of the way, until her ass came up against the back of the wingchair.

“I don’t get it,” Rhys said, pushing his jacket aside and propping his fist on his hip, close to the badge on his belt. “I can’t put it together properly.”

“Put what together?”

“It makes sense that Aithan would have no objections to this.”

Her laugh caught her by surprise. “Free sex, forever. Of course he would like it.”

“It probably isn’t a shock that the idea of being shoved around by some all-powerful and invisible force doesn’t thrill me, either. What I don’t get is why you have such strong objections.”

Cora dropped her gaze to the carpet as her chest tightened unpleasantly and realized that the movement told Rhys more than she had intended. He was a lawman, used to watching people for tell-tale signs. So she lifted her head again and looked him in the eye.

“You’re not going to tell me,” he interpreted. “You still don’t trust me. But these are your people, Cora. Your clansmen.”

“No, they’re not.”

“Okay, fine. I don’t know much about anything, but at least I know I don’t know. You’re not even trying to figure it out, are you?”

She thought of the bathroom upstairs. She could smell the cleaning solution from here. “There’s nothing to work out. I won’t go through with this. That’s all I’m gonna say on the matter.”

Rhys let out a heavy breath. “Very well. But before I go, can I kiss you?”

Her heart jumped. It was a purely human reaction. She only ever seemed to experience human reactions when Rhys was near.

“I know you’ve wanted me to, ever since we’ve met. I even know why you wouldn’t let it happen.” His voice was low, curling around the base of her spine and walking along her back. “I think by now you know that I’ve always wanted to, right from day one. So now I want to kiss you before this bonding thing grows any stronger. I want to know what it might have been like.”

“Perhaps it’s already too late.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in the bonding?”

Her pulse jumped, because Rhys was drawing nearer. It was almost sneaky, the way he was gradually moving closer. He was watching her closely.

Looking at his eyes was a mistake. She could feel how something seemed to grab her attention and hold it—his willpower, the bonding (that didn’t exist, of course), or just plain ol’ horny feelings—and she couldn’t look away. Her breath emerged in a shaky sigh.

Rhys reached out slowly and put his hands around her face. His flesh was hot against hers. Human hot. His scent was rich, layered. He tilted her head up. His eyes were so blue and from this close, she could see that they were flawless, without fleck or mark.

She was right back to wanting him again, just like at the casino. This time, though, the feeling didn’t rise up inside her. It burst over her like a shower, saturating her with hot need. Cora leaned forward and met his lips, unable to wait.

It was heaven. It was everything she thought it might be. Her already roused body tightened with almost painful wanting. It had been so long….

Then thought faded and the delight the kiss generated turned to a slow, deep torpor, sending liquid heat through her veins and nerves.

She wound her arms around his neck and clung to him. It wasn’t close enough, even though her breasts were against his chest and her hips against his. His hands pressed against her back, holding her still, holding her against him.

His lips were warm against hers and tasted…she wasn’t sure what the taste was. She had forgotten so many tastes already. But she could taste him and it was such a pleasure!

But there was something not quite right.

The thought intruded despite the thrill of his kiss. Something was wrong. Something was missing. It tapped at her mind persistently, making her focus on it.

As soon as she examined the thought, she felt the same jolt she had experienced when she had jumped away to the fire tower.

“Well, hello.”

Cora tore her lips away from Rhys’ and looked around, horror filtering through the thick, syrupy need, diluting and dispersing it.

Aithan was sitting up on a bed with a coverlet on it that screamed “hotel”, his back against the headboard. “I see you got things started without me.”

Cora pushed herself away from Rhys as the horror bloomed into a churning soup of guilt, embarrassment and confusion.

Rhys turned to face Aithan. “Are you ever going to stop being a dick?”

“Are you ever going to stop trying to be the hero?”

Cora closed her eyes and sank onto the single armless chair that sat in front of a table holding a lamp and hotel stationery. Why had she brought them here? How had she even known where to jump them? “I felt your frustration,” she said slowly and looked up at Aithan. “I felt it.”

Aithan gave a slow nod. “I felt your arousal.” He looked at Rhys. “Both of you.”

Rhys rubbed the back of his neck. “That’s part of it, then. Feeling each other.”

Cora shook her head. “No.”

Aithan laughed. “You’re both in full-blown denial. It would be laughable, if it wasn’t so pathetic.”

Rhys’ tone was defensive. “I’m not denying anything.”

“No?” Aithan leaned back and crossed his arms. “You snuck back to kiss the girl after you delivered me here. Did you even try to go back to your office, like you said you were?”

Rhys’ gaze flickered toward Cora. “That’s different. I couldn’t stay away.”

“Not once you had me out of the picture.” Aithan’s smile was drier than the Sahara. It was almost a grimace. “You’re happy enough over the idea of bonding with Cora. What you’re trying to duck, with every fiber of your soul, is the idea of bonding with me.”

Rhys swallowed. His jaw worked. But he didn’t speak.

Aithan slid down the length of the bed, then swiveled so his feet were on the floor. It put him almost directly opposite Rhys, where he stood with his back against the wall. “You’re scared,” Aithan said flatly.

Rhys tried to shake his head, but the movement was stiff.

“It’s time for truth. The other trinities must have reached this same conclusion. Whatever happens between us, whatever is said, whatever vulnerability is exposed, it must stay between us, or the trinity will be weaker through exposure.”

Cora silently agreed with him. Aithan had put his finger on the very core of the problem.

“So now we can luxuriate in the prickly truth,” Aithan said. “You’re afraid of what I represent.”

“You’re a demon.” Rhys’ voice was hoarse.

“Of a sort. But your mother was fae and witches like her have been given worse names throughout history. It’s just a name. That’s not what you fear.” He got to his feet, which put him bare inches away from Rhys. “You’re recoiling from the idea of sex with a man.”

Rhys flinched. His throat worked. “I…I’ve never….”

Aithan nodded, but this time, there was empathy in his eyes. “I know.” He moved a half inch closer and Cora’s heart gave a heavy lurch as she realized how close he was to Rhys. Aithan wasn’t quite as tall as Rhys, but he was bigger in build. “But no one outside this room need ever know what goes on between us.” He was looking Rhys in the eye and Rhys wasn’t moving a muscle. He was watching every move Aithan made. There was a pulse in the side of his neck, throbbing heavily.

Cora shifted on her chair, tension heavy in her limbs, stirring the embers of her need back to life.

Aithan’s voice was low. Soft. “You couldn’t stay away from Cora. Was that the bond?”

“I think…yes,” Rhys whispered.

“Then you agree that it is powerful, already?”

Rhys nodded.

“Let me show you something,” Aithan said. “Close your eyes.”

Rhys stared at him. “Why?”

“You know why. Close your eyes. Let the bond do its work.”

Cora gripped her hands together, her fingers pressing in on each other and digging into the backs of her hands. Her breathing had stopped, but her heart was racing as she watched the two of them standing eye to eye, their bodies almost touching. She didn’t want this to work. She didn’t want Aithan to be right. But a lethargy kept her in her seat, to see what would happen. Then she realized that it wasn’t lethargy at all. It was anticipation.

As Rhys closed his eyes and Aithan leaned forward, she drew in a sharp breath, excitement spilling through her.

Aithan didn’t draw him closer. He didn’t touch Rhys at all, except for his mouth, which he pressed against Rhys’ with growing firmness.

Cora held her knees together as her clit throbbed and gripped her hands even tighter.

Then Rhys gave out a deep groan. He curled his hand around the back of Aithan’s head and their bodies met, from chest to knee. Rhys was kissing Aithan now. His eyes were still closed but the lines of his body were taut with excitement.

Rhys pulled his lips from Aithan’s. He was almost gasping for breath as he studied Aithan with a slightly puzzled air. His hand was still cupping the back of his head and his fingers moved restlessly in his hair. “Damn,” he said, almost soundlessly. He sounded dazed.

Aithan smiled. “Agreed.”

Cora shot to her feet and moved fast, heading for the door. But Aithan was just as fast. He lunged forward and grabbed her wrist, anchoring her. “No.” His hand was warm against her skin.

Cora tugged. Uselessly. “You don’t understand. I don’t want this.”

“You’ve made that abundantly clear,” Aithan replied.

Rhys moved around him, until he was between the two of them. “You’ve always lived alone. You’ve always been alone. I thought that was because you were afraid that close relationships would reveal who you were. But that’s not it, is it?”

Cora tried to pull her wrist free again. “Let me go.”

Aithan’s dark eyes were drilling into her. Through her. Seeing everything. “You don’t want to belong, do you?”

Everything inside her seemed to seize up in shock. She stared at him.

Aithan tilted his head, his eyes not letting her go. “You don’t even want to belong to your clan. They’re in Toronto, you’re here in Erie, Pennsylvania, with a whole international border between you and them. You won’t suffer another supernatural in your town. You don’t even want to be a vampire.”

There was heat curling through her, but it wasn’t pleasure. It wasn’t even anticipation. It reached the base of her throat and seemed to spread and congeal into a hard, painful knot. “You don’t understand.” The words came out in a choked whisper, working around the knot.

“Try us,” Rhys said quietly.

She shook her head. Once she started down this path—once she started talking, she knew that would be the end of it, that she would not stop talking, that they would know everything and somehow, they would make it work. But she didn’t want it to work.

She wanted to be alone.

“Cora.” Aithan touched her cheek. It was a gentle touch and felt completely natural. Nice.

Tears welled in her eyes, like hot slivers of diamond. They rolled down her cheeks, shocking her. She hadn’t been able to cry for five years. Not since they had made her. She put her fingers to her wet cheek.

“Tears,” Aithan breathed.

“And you’re warm to touch.” She shook her head. “I can’t belong. I won’t stand it.” She wrenched her hand out of Aithan’s loosened grip and moved, regardless of any humans that might be in the hotel corridor. She used the first fire escape she found and ran down the stairs and out into the parking lot before she slowed to draw breath.

Then she realized she could jump back to her apartment.

“No,” she told the air and anyone who might be listening. She wiped her face of tears. “I’m damn well gonna walk there.” She moved fast, but not beyond human speed, until she was a good block away from the hotel. Then she slowed to a more sustainable and human-like pace and hurried home. She was on the other side of town from the complex, but that was good. That was just fine and dandy. The idea of standing or sitting still was repulsive.

Chapter Eight

Cora saw Meta just ahead on the sidewalk, walking slowly. Meta was wearing her jogging shorts and running shoes, but as it was sundown and not sunrise, this had to be a gentle walk for her. Meta always did her serious training as the sun came up.

Cora felt a touch of relief. “Meta!” she called out and waved when Meta turned to look behind her. The dark-haired woman was only just over five feet, which made nearly a foot difference between the two of them, but there were far more things they had in common, including being confirmed bachelors. Meta liked living on her own. She had confessed to Cora that she had spent years making her home suit her exactly and anyone who intruded, including the occasional man, tended to make her grumpy and out of sorts.

Meta was one of Cora’s favorite humans and she seemed pleased to see Cora, too. “Day off?” she asked.

“Thank the heavens, yes,” Cora said. “Heading home?”

“It’s such a beautiful day. I wanted to catch the last of it, so I jogged down to the river and walked back.” She turned and walked alongside Cora. Cora adjusted her stride to match Meta’s short one. They angled around the side of the complex to head for the back of their building.

“Was it my imagination, or did you have a gentleman caller earlier?” Meta asked, glancing up at her.

Cora sighed. “It’s complicated.”

“That’s not like you. You’re supposed to boot ’em out the door the next morning before ten. Didn’t I teach you right?”

Cora gave her a small smile. “I tried.”

“He came back?” Meta looked up again, a little smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “He might be a keeper, honey.”

They moved into the service area behind their building. Faceless garage doors lined the long, narrow area. Tucked between each were covered walkways leading to each back door. The lane was heavily shadowed, for the sun only reached into the access area when it was high overhead.

“More complicated than that,” Cora said.

“He’s married?”

She shook her head.

“Gay?”

Cora rolled her eyes. “There’s two of them.”

Meta pressed her fingertip to her lips, holding back a smile. “When you fall, you do it with gusto, don’t you?” She stepped around a garbage can sitting on the sidewalk. “Pick the best guy.” She shrugged.

“They’re a package deal.”

Meta halted and Cora turned back.

Meta was looking at her with her hands on her hips and her head tilted. “And you kicked them out? What, are you nuts?”

Cora laughed. It was a shaky sound, but it felt nice to be able to laugh even a little bit.

Because she was looking over Meta’s short head, she saw the creature sooner than it might have intended. In the gloaming she caught a glimpse of something very tall with a ghostly, drawn face. It was moving toward them. Black cloth fluttered around it, disguising its body.

Cora grabbed Meta and pushed her behind her.

“What the hell?” Meta demanded. “Oh my god….” The fear in her voice made Cora look over her shoulder. There was another of the tall things coming from that direction. This one was well over seven feet. Its…his eyes looked like black pits in the skull-like white face. There was a dark shadow where the mouth would be.

“Go inside, Meta,” Cora told her. “It’s me they want. Go now.”

“What are they?” Meta’s voice shook.

Cora was pretty sure they were Grimoré, even though she had never seen one before. They matched the description Lindal and Seaveth had given her.

Seaveth! The reminder was sharp and Cora sucked in a breath, bracing herself. The mental shout she let loose seemed to echo in her head. Seaveth! Grimoré! Come quickly!

She turned back to spot the first one. He had moved closer while she was watching the second. They were working together.

“Meta, you have to go now.”

“I can’t.” Meta’s voice was astonishingly calm. “That thing has blocked my way.”

“Shit on a stick,” Cora muttered as the first prowled even closer. She wasn’t sure if it was walking. She couldn’t see its feet. There seemed to be a shadow lying over it, disguising details. Or perhaps it was just an emanation of its black soul. “Stand very still, Meta,” she said. “Tell me when it lunges for you and brace yourself.”

“Brace for what?”

“I won’t say. These things might know English.”

“You’ll have to surprise me, then.”

Cora eyed the one on her side as it drifted closer and closer.

“Cora!” Meta cried.

Cora didn’t turn to look. Instead she spun fast on one foot and leapt upward. She pushed down on Meta’s shoulders, which were below her own because of their differences in height. She used the leverage to pivot herself in the air and bring her boots up, her legs coiled.

She pistoned her legs out with every skerrick of muscle power she could muster and slammed her heels into the thing’s face. The Grimoré flew backward, more lightweight than Cora had anticipated. It rolled when it hit the concrete.

Cora was already falling back to the ground. Meta’s hands gripped her wrists, anchoring them and stabilizing her landing. Her boots hit the concrete. She kept turning, bringing Meta with her and out of the way of the first Grimoré, who had surged forward. Cora leaned back and brought her boot up to slam it into the white face, but a skeletal hand with three long fingers gripped her ankle.

Instantly, Cora pushed off from Meta’s shoulders, bringing herself closer to the thing. She drove her other boot into its face. It wasn’t a strong kick and the Grimoré only staggered backward. But its hand let go of her ankle.

She was in mid-air now and wouldn’t be able to get her feet under her in time. She thrust her hands forward to break her fall and felt the skin shred as they slammed into the concrete. Cora tucked her feet in behind her, finishing in a crouch.

Meta was three feet away, her eyes very large.

“Wyatt, take the one on the left.” It was Seaveth’s calm, rich voice.

“Got it.” It was a man’s voice.

Meta was looking over Cora’s shoulder now and her mouth was open.

Seaveth stepped past Cora, swirling dark green fabric around her feet. A long knife was in her hand. She moved toward the second Grimoré that was just starting to stir. Cora didn’t turn to see what Seaveth was doing. She kept her gaze on the first Grimoré. There was a man she didn’t know crouched over it, his muscled shoulders working.

From the darker shadows forming around the building on the other side of the parking lot came a snuffing animal sound and a low-throated rumble that made the fine hairs on her arm stand up.

From behind came a grunt of effort and a high pitched squeal, quickly shut off. That would be the Grimoré Seaveth had chosen to take care of.

“Cora.” It was a soft call for her attention. She snapped her head around.

Aithan and Rhys were moving across the tarmac, heading toward her. Lindal was just behind them, only he had his black knife out and was staring at the building across the way, where the sounds were coming from.

Cora got to her feet. Happiness was spreading through her and a deep relief that she wouldn’t have to face this alone.

What the fuck, Coralee? she asked herself. Since when did she ask for help of anyone?

But it was true. She couldn’t deny the joy that was bubbling up just from knowing they were here. That they had come for her.

As soon as they were close enough, she reached out for them. “I was wrong. All wrong, totally wrong.”

Rhys gathered her up against him with one arm and Aithan stood close to both of them. She looked up at his dark eyes. “I don’t understand. You feel more familiar, more dear to me, than any of my family ever did.”

“It’s the bonding,” Aithan said softly. “Seaveth said it was kind, in its way.”

Cora kissed him and Rhys’ arm tightened around her waist as Aithan held her face and kissed her back. It was a delightful kiss, different from Rhys’ as night was from day, but very satisfying. More than that.

“If you’re done?” Lindal asked, sounding both amused and irritated.

Aithan let her go but his hand dropped to her shoulder as he turned to look at Lindal. It put Cora between Rhys and Aithan.

Meta was standing a few paces away, her arms wrapped around her middle, the safety strips on her tee shirt glowing in the dark. Her eyes were very wide, as she looked wildly around at Seaveth, the silent and still Grimoré and the four men, two of them with bloody knives and two of them with Cora.

Uneasiness touched Cora. Meta had seen far too much. She was only human….

“What the hell were you thinking, Cora?” Lindal demanded, pulling her attention back to him. “Walking around like you’re free as a bird, when Seaveth said going outside was dangerous? You put everyone at risk, including your friend, there.”

Cora glanced at Meta again. She was watching Lindal now, a frown puckering her face.

“It’s too late to worry about discretion,” Lindal added. “We’ll have to deal with her another way.”

Cora gasped. “Dealing” with humans who learned too much often meant those humans were never seen from again.

Lindal rolled his eyes. “No, not that,” he said impatiently. “Although we would be wiser to do just that and make sure you understood it was your fault.”

More low growling came from behind him. He glanced over his shoulder at the shadows. “You’ve brought the Grimoré out of hiding by flaunting yourself when you were vulnerable.”

Rhys shifted on his feet. “She didn’t do it on a whim.”

“Shouldn’t you be taking care of the vampeen over there instead of lecturing?” Aithan added.

“I’ll lecture until I believe you really understand what you’re doing,” Lindal shot back.

“Lindal,” Seaveth said softly. “Leave it.”

Lindal blew his breath out impatiently and looked at the strange man. “Wyatt, let’s deal with the rest of them.”

The man pulled the long knife out from under his jacket again. “Sounds good.”

They both headed for the other side of the lane.

Seaveth had put her knife away. Cora didn’t know where she hid it, for her dress was form fitting right down to her hips, where it flared out to the ground. The most likely place would be her boot.

“You three should go inside,” Seaveth said. “I will talk to your friend.”

“Meta,” Cora added.

“Meta,” Seaveth confirmed and smiled at Cora’s neighbor. “I’m sure you have many questions, but inside will be safer for now.”

Meta unwrapped her arms and dug into the band of her running shorts for her house key. “I think I’ve got a lot of it figured out,” she said and glanced at Cora one last time before leading Seaveth to her back door.

Cora glanced up at Aithan and Rhys. It pleased her that they were both taller than her. Aithan was only just taller, but it was nice to look up at both of them. “I bet you both want a stiff drink.”

“Surprisingly, yes,” Aithan said, his voice low. “How strange.”

“More of the bonding?” Rhys asked.

“Undoubtedly.” Aithan picked up Cora’s hand and this time, she had no objections.

* * * * *

Agreement and execution were two different things, Cora realized, as she looked at Rhys sitting at the table with her scotch decanter and at Aithan, who was back standing at the counter with his arms crossed. She couldn’t meet either of their gazes. Instead she stared at the carpet, picking out patterns in the pile. She was trembling and held up her hand to look at it in amazement. “I’m scared,” she said, as she remembered what the coppery taste in her mouth meant.

“You’re scared?” Rhys knocked back an inch of scotch and pushed the glass away.

“Don’t be,” Aithan said. “Either of you.”

“Why aren’t you?” Cora demanded. “Or have you done this so many times before it’s just another snack for you?”

“You don’t fear the sex,” Aithan said. “What you really fear is what comes after. The changes. The bonding.”

“And I repeat, that doesn’t scare you?” Cora said.

Aithan lowered his arms. “Why should it? You both seem to think that I chose this life, that I find pleasure in being forced to find sex day after day. Casual sex and one night stands are so fulfilling, after all.” His mouth turned down.

Rhys held up his hand. “Hang on…you’re saying you became a demon?”

“Incubus,” Aithan said flatly. “There’s a large difference.”

“What were you before?” Rhys asked.

“Human,” Cora guessed.

“You were human?” Rhys said. “Someone turned you into an incubus? Why the fuck would they do that?”

Aithan sighed. “Demons create demons from pure evil, but incubuses…they are created from human souls.”

“Why?” Cora asked, for even she had not known this.

“As punishment.”

“As…” Rhys stared at him. “Because sex is a terrible penance to pay.”

Aithan didn’t laugh. He didn’t even smile. “You don’t understand. I must have sex to survive but because of what I am, I can’t form human attachments. The shallowest of sexual intimacy is the closest I can get to a real relationship. The demons make it that way to tease, to remind me of what it is I cannot have. No love. No children. No chance of a normal life. Just the need to find yet another partner who can keep me alive for another few days.” He grimaced and his gaze flickered toward Cora. “Vampires remember who they were. They can fall in love even after they’ve been made. They can love humans. Live with them, even if it is a very bad idea. But for me…” He shrugged.

“Damn,” Rhys muttered.

“It didn’t take long to start hating myself. To hate my very existence. But there is no escape. I can’t kill myself, I can’t change anything.” Aithan looked at Rhys. “It is punishment.”

“What did you do?” Cora asked. What could possibly be bad enough to inflict such an existence upon a human?

“I don’t know. I don’t remember being human. I don’t even know who I was.”

Horror for the life Aithan was forced to lead made Cora’s heart squeeze.

Somewhere out on the lake, a boat horn sounded, flat and far away.

“So you studied philosophy, instead,” Rhys said.

“I thought there might be answers there. I thought I might be able to find a way to live my life, such as it was.”

“Did you?” Cora asked.

Aithan looked at her, his dark eyes direct and unflinching. “Not until this morning.” He gave them both another of his dry smiles. Cora was beginning to understand the cynicism he seemed to exude, especially in front of other people. “You two are afraid, but I’m sorry…to me this bonding just might be the miracle I have searched for decades to find.”

“The changes,” Cora breathed. “You’re hoping the bonding changes you enough to stop being an incubus.”

Aithan shook his head. “There’s no going back. I will forever be what I am. But even a small change might relieve some of the bleakness of my days and for that reason, the bonding gives me hope.”

Rhys sat back in the chair, studying him. “That’s not what I’m feeling.” There was a rough timbre to his voice that sent a little jolt sizzling through Cora’s belly.

“I know.” Aithan’s smile was warmer this time. “I can feel your need. Both of you. You’re both afraid, but you both want this.”

“Want it, fear it,” Rhys agreed. “But mostly what I want to do is kiss you, which shocks the shit out of me. At the same time, I want to tear every stitch off Cora and kiss her from head to toe. But I don’t even know where to start. How to start.”

Aithan held up his hands. “You need to stop thinking it through. For the next little while, just do what you want, when you want. Analyze later…” His smile was quick and humorous. “Or not,” he added.

Cora pushed herself off the wall she had been leaning against and walked over to Aithan. “Dibs,” she said softly and kissed him.

It was as good as the first one. Better, even. This time Aithan held her against him and she could feel his warmth against her body. He wasn’t as hot as Rhys would be, but he was warm. Much warmer than he had been when she met him at the casino. It was another change, but now the idea of changing didn’t scare her as much as it had before she had heard Aithan’s story.

Then she forgot about changes and stories and immersed herself in the kiss. Aithan’s tongue slid into her mouth and stroked her own and she moaned. Her heart began to beat and she let it loose to work as it needed to. Blood surged and she could feel her body tightening up, nerve endings waking.

Hands on her shoulders were spinning her, pulling her away. “My turn,” Rhys said. He brought her around to face him. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured and kissed her.

Cora reveled in the kiss, in the taste of Rhys’ lips and the soft touch of his tongue. She had never known him to have a girlfriend, not since she had moved to Erie, but he knew his way around a kiss.

When Aithan cupped her breasts from behind, she moaned into Rhys’ mouth. Her whole body leapt, nerves fizzing in response. She could feel Aithan behind her, pressing up against her. His fingers stroked her nipples through the thin cotton of her tee shirt. She wore no bra, for she had stripped it off when she had begun cleaning the bathroom, a few hours and a whole lifetime away from this moment.

Her nipples hardened into tight nubs and her clit began to throb in time with her heart. Having two sets of hands on her was more than twice as good. When she realized that Rhys was fumbling with the button on her jeans, her heart leapt even higher. Her breath rushed out of her in a whoosh and she tore her lips from his, needing to breathe.

“That’s better.” Rhys’ voice was hoarse. “Now I can see what I’m doing.”

He pulled her jeans open, baring her stomach.

“Even better,” Aithan said. His hands slipped down her torso and pushed into her jeans. He stroked the flesh next to her hipbone and her hips thrust in reaction. Cora closed her eyes for a moment, feeling the pleasure building in her. The tingling in her extremities was feeding into the building excitement at the very bottom of her belly.

Her clothes felt restrictive. “Take them off. Take them all off.”

Rhys pushed her tee shirt up the length of her torso and gathered the hem in his hands. He pulled the shirt off and Cora felt the soft touch of cool air on her breasts. She was warming up. The flow of blood and her unrestricted heartbeat were heating her from the inside out.

Her nipples crinkled even harder as Rhys cupped her breasts, not quite touching the heated tips.

Aithan pushed her jeans down her hips. Cora stepped out of her boots and sock, then the jeans. She tossed them aside. All she was wearing now were her panties and Aithan slid a finger under each side, lifting the elastic. But instead of pulling them down her hips as she had expected him to do, he pushed his hand under the top of them, his fingers sliding over the very sensitive flesh. He didn’t curl them over her mound, but spread them out as though he was tasting her. His thumb stroked the skin next to her navel and her hips jerked in reaction. She drew in a sharp breath that hissed through her teeth.

Rhys kissed her, just a small touch of his lips. Then he raised his head and leaned over her shoulder to kiss Aithan, keeping Cora between them. His body pressed against hers and she could feel his cock, hard and upright against her hip, distinct beneath the fabric of his trousers. The hard ridge brushing her hip made pleasure flare in her clit, a radiant heat.

She leaned sideways, so that she could look up and watch them kissing. The first time she had watched them kiss, in Aithan’s hotel room, she had refused to let herself enjoy it even though her body had reacted. This time, she absorbed every detail. The way their lips met, the soft but very masculine sounds they were making. Aithan’s body against her back, shifting in reaction. The throbbing of Rhys’ cock against her.

Cora let out a shaky breath as Rhys released Aithan and straightened up.

“Oh, God…” Rhys swallowed. He seemed dazed. “That was so good.”

She couldn’t stand it any longer. She reached for the button on his pants and yanked. The button popped and skittered across the carpet. “Help me,” she told Aithan.

He let her go and moved around her so he could reach Rhys. He tugged Rhys’ jacket down his sleeves, revealing the shirt beneath and the webbing of his gun holster.

Rhys grimaced and worked his arms out of it. “Cora, is there somewhere secure I can put this?”

“Will a locked cupboard do?”

“For now.”

She opened the middle door of the sideboard with the key that was in it and held it open. Rhys slid the gun and holster inside on top of the hand-worked placemats and she locked the door and gave him the key.

He put the key on top of the sideboard. “It’s safe enough there, if no one knows there’s a gun inside.” He turned around. “Now…where were we?”

“Here.” She pulled at the open sides of his pants, working them down his hips. She was hungry to see him naked. To run her hands over his flesh.

Aithan came up behind him and worked the buttons of his shirt undone by reaching around him. Rhys blew out his breath. “This is…very intense.”

“This is just the beginning,” Aithan warned him. He stripped the shirt off as Cora got rid of the remaining garments.

Rhys was tall and lean, with the sort of rangy muscles that a physically active man acquired through his occupation. The muscles were well defined. Best of all, the ridge of pelvic muscle that arrowed down to his crotch was deep and sexy.

His cock was already rampantly erect, red and throbbing. Cora reached out to stroke it.

“Not yet.” Aithan’s voice was soft, but it halted her hand. “Let’s see how far we can push him before he begs us to touch him.”

Cora couldn’t help smiling. “That’s wicked.”

“I’m a wicked man.”

“You’re both going to drive me out of my skull.” Rhys’ voice was tight with tension.

“Good,” Cora said.

Aithan circled him. “Why don’t you rub yourself against him, while I tease below?” His gaze was on Rhys’ cock, which twitched as he looked.

“I’d rather watch,” Cora said.

Rhys gave a small groan.

Aithan just grinned and lowered himself to his knees in front of Rhys. He looked up at him. “You can stop this whenever you want.”

Rhys swallowed and his jaw rippled. “If you don’t start, I’m going to get my gun out again.”

Aithan laughed. He bent and forced Rhys to spread his feet, then slowly ran his hands up the inside of his legs, taking his time, his fingers stroking right up to the soft flesh next to his balls. Rhys endured the torture by fisting his hands at his thighs. His eyelids lowered over the blue, not quite closing.

Cora’s heart was rampaging, banging in her chest. Her clit was throbbing in time and she shifted on her feet, wanting to touch, to play, to fill the aching emptiness inside her. At the same time, she wanted to watch and not miss a moment of what Aithan was doing or a single quiver of reaction from Rhys. She’d never realized how powerfully arousing it was to watch two men together.

As Aithan teased, stroking Rhys’ thighs and hips and the fine flesh just above his cock, he took care not to let his hands brush the quivering shaft. But Rhys still hissed and his hip jerked in response.

“This is almost too easy,” Aithan murmured.

“I’m holding myself back from grabbing your head and ramming myself into you,” Rhys warned, his voice low. “There’s a tiny part of my mind that is staggering around in total amazement that I’m putting up with this, but mostly, all I can feel is overwhelming…the closest I can come to it is lust, but that doesn’t do it justice. I’ve never felt this way before.”

“It’s the bonding,” Cora said.

“Or are you just letting yourself feel true feelings for the first time ever?” Aithan asked, stilling the movement of his fingers.

“Does it matter?” Rhys said.

“Not to me,” Aithan whispered. He gripped Rhys’ cock in one hand and Rhys threw his head back and groaned again. His knuckles whitened.

Aithan slid his mouth over the tip of Rhys’ cock, his lips travelling along the shaft. Then back again. Cora watched, her heart and her breath stilled with excitement, as Aithan swirled his tongue over the tip of Rhys’ cock.

Rhys was breathing heavily. A heavy pulse beat at the base of his neck. He was starting to tremble. As Aithan settled into the rhythm of stroking the length of his cock with his lips and tongue, Rhys lifted his hand. It hovered over the top of Aithan’s head. Rhys was trying to hold back, to control himself.

Aithan cupped the swollen sacs beneath his cock and squeezed.

Rhys thrust his hand into Aithan’s hair and gripped his head. His hips thrust and his breath grew ragged. The tendons on his neck stood out as his excitement grew.

At the very last moment, Aithan stopped.

“God, no!” Rhys cried as Aithan stood up with a smile on his face.

Cora turned to Aithan. “You’re the only one still dressed. That’s hardly fair.” He had removed his leather jacket, but still wore jeans and a long sleeved tee shirt that pulled tight over his biceps and the rounded muscles on his chest.

“You are not naked yet,” he pointed out.

“Technicality.”

She undressed him, while Rhys watched avidly. She took her time with it, sliding her fingers over Aithan’s flesh as it was revealed. “You’re warm to my touch,” she said. “Human warm.”

Aithan’s breathing was already uneven. He shook his head, a small movement. “You’re imagining it. Or it’s heat transfer from you. You’ve let your heart run free. You’re as hot as Rhys now.”

She stepped behind him, letting her hand slide around his naked hip and felt the twitch of muscles in response. She stood behind him and pulled his jeans off, then stripped him of everything from the waist to the floor. She pressed her breasts against his back through the tee shirt and he gave a soft sound in reaction.

Standing behind him, she did what he had done to her. She spread her fingers across his pelvis, carefully avoiding his cock. She teased the flesh there. Rhys stood in front of him and watched the movement of her fingers with tense concentration.

Cora moved back around to face Aithan. His eyes were narrowed, almost sleepy with arousal.

“Don’t stop,” he whispered.

She stripped the tee shirt from him, as he raised his arms to cooperate, then tossed it onto the table beside them. Then she stopped to look at him, her pulse thready.

Aithan was a prime male, with lots of muscle. There were tattoos curling over his biceps and one on his thigh, depicting dragons and a fiery sunbird. His cock was jutting from the junction of his muscled thighs, almost purple at the tip and red everywhere else. Veins extended the length of the shaft, throbbing.

“Someone is enjoying himself,” Rhys remarked.

Cora wrapped her hand around Aithan’s cock, feeling the undeniable heat of it. She stroked, a barely there slip of her fingers over the head and he growled in the back of his throat and his hips jerked.

Cora stepped away, with a small smile. “That’s enough for now,” she declared and turned to Rhys.

Aithan grabbed her and spun her up against him, his fingers digging into her upper arms. Her nipples scraped against his chest as he held her there. The sensation sent a shiver through her. “If you want me to bend you over that table and drive myself into you, keep teasing as you are.”

Her pussy throbbed at the thought. “Is that a request?”

Aithan’s low growl was warning enough.

Cora deliberately turned her back on him and picked up Rhys’ hand. “Come with me.”

“With pleasure.” He went with her to the stairs and they started to climb. Aithan followed, as she had known he would, but he brushed past Rhys, picked her up and pushed her up against the wall.

“You asked for it,” he breathed. As Rhys settled a few steps lower, Aithan snatched her panties away, the lace tearing with a soft sound. He spread her thighs roughly apart and slid his hand through her cleft from anus to clit. She could feel and hear the moisture he slicked through. She was desperately wet and in need.

The brush of his fingers against her clit made her hips push forward. She gasped.

Aithan was watching her reactions, gauging her response. But that seemed to be the limit of his control. He grabbed her hips and pressed himself against her. His cock pushed inside, spearing her and spreading her open in a way that made her head roll back and a moan emerge.

He began to thrust in hard strokes. There was a pucker between his brows as he took her, harder and harder.

Cora clung to him. She didn’t want it to stop.

But Rhys climbed the stairs and tugged on Aithan’s arm. “Bring her up here, so we can both play.” Then he shook. “Aithan.”

Aithan withdrew and let her go. He pressed his hand against the wall by her head. It was trembling. “I didn’t want to stop,” he said, his voice hoarse.

Cora picked up his other hand. “I should hope not.”

“No, you don’t understand. I don’t lose control. Ever.” His eyes in the dim stairway were dark orbs. He glanced at Rhys. “I don’t take pleasure. That’s not my role.”

“You can’t climax at all?” Rhys breathed.

“Yes, but the only way I…” He sucked in a breath, calming himself. “It is the other person’s pleasure that feeds me.”

“Does it matter?” Cora asked. She was puzzled.

He touched her cheek with his fingertips. “I wanted to come inside you. It was overwhelming.”

Cora squeezed his hand. “Let’s go upstairs. I think you need to be overwhelmed. More than once.”

He let her lead him up the stairs. At the top of the stairs, Rhys took her other hand and pulled them both into her bedroom.

The bed was made, the cushions and throw pillows arranged artfully, the dull satin cover gleaming and pristine. “Well, finally, I get to use the bed.”

Rhys picked her up and put her on it. “I can’t think of a better use for one.”

Aithan caught at his arm as he started to kneel on the bed himself. “Wait.” His voice was low.

Rhys looked at him over his shoulder.

“There’s something I want to do…if you’ll let me.”

“What?”

Cora couldn’t see what Aithan did, but Rhys sucked in his breath and his eyes drifted shut. “What makes you think I would say no?” he breathed, opening them just enough to look at him.

Aithan’s expression slipped and for a moment, Cora saw an age-old weariness in his eyes. “I’ve spent what life I remember asking questions like I just asked you.”

Cora pressed her lips together, as Rhys stared at him. Then Rhys turned and kissed him. Brief and hard. “Don’t ask anymore.”

Aithan’s face worked. Then it cleared and he gave a small smile. “I’ll be right back.” He hurried out of the room and Cora watched his hard ass and thick thighs with renewed appreciation.

Rhys was watching her. “You like it, don’t you?”

“Watching you two play? I sure do.” She squeezed her thighs together. “Do you?”

Rhys sighed. “You have no idea how much.” He gave a short laugh. “Hell, I didn’t know how much until now. I always thought I was a pretty square guy.”

“And I was a southern belle and butter wouldn’t melt in my mouth.” She gave him a small smile of her own. “I’d rather be here.”

“The apocalypse wouldn’t move me from this spot.”

Chapter Nine

Aithan came in, carrying something in his hand. He held his hand out so they could see it. It was a tube of lubricant. “I guessed neither of you would have some to hand.”

Rhys stared at it. “I think I just got another look at what life is like for you. You carry that around in your pocket, don’t you?”

Aithan grimaced. “Most people who use it keep it in their nightstands.”

“But you don’t have one,” Cora finished.

He shook his head.

Rhys straightened up like he’d been goosed. “Wait…you don’t have a bed? A house? You’re telling me you’re homeless?”

Aithan looked awkward. “It’s not really homelessness if you’re using a different bed each night.” He glanced at her. “Don’t look like that. It is what it is.”

“But it’s horrible,” Cora said. “I had no idea what your life was like.”

“No one does,” Aithan said flatly. “I don’t get to know anyone well enough to be able to tell them. That’s the whole point.”

“Well, now we know,” Rhys said and took the lubricant out of his hand. “So the cycle stops here, doesn’t it?”

Aithan consider him for a moment. “I suppose, yes.” He took the tube back. “I’ll need that, thank you.”

Rhys raised a brow. “Bring it on.”

Aithan smiled as he pushed on Rhys’ shoulder, bending him over, until Rhys reached out to prop himself up on the bed, his arms spread. Aithan looked at Cora and made a ‘come here’ gesture with his finger. “I’ll need your help.”

She slithered over the cover to the end of the bed and stood. Now she could see the curve of Rhys’ ass cheeks and the long muscles down the back of his legs. She moved another few inches around. Between his thighs she could see the heavy flesh of his testicles.

Aithan slid his hand over one cheek and pressed his finger between them.

Rhys gasped.

Cora licked her lips as Aithan uncapped the lubricant. Her excitement, which had subsided just a little, flared back into hot, throbbing life. “I can’t stand this,” she said. “I need to move.”

“Stroke him,” Aithan told her and squeezed some of the lubricant onto her hand. “This will make it last longer.”

“That sounds good.”

Rhys groaned.

Cora didn’t give him time to brace himself. She reached under his belly and wound her fingers around his cock and slid her palm along its length, spreading the lubricant. Rhys lowered his head as she worked, his breath speeding up.

But then her breath halted as she looked over at Aithan, for he was stroking his own cock, spreading the gel. The sight of his fist around his thick shaft was electrifying. She drew in a ragged breath.

Aithan ran his hand between Rhys’ cheeks, separating them and Rhys closed his eyes. He pressed his fingers against the aperture, distributing the lubricant and stroking with his tips. Then he pushed one inside.

Rhys jerked and groaned.

Aithan slid another finger inside, spreading him.

Cora could barely remember to keep stroking Rhys’ cock. The hot, hard anticipatory rush of arousal was stealing her concentration. She couldn’t breathe even though her body was demanding air. Her heart and lungs were working harder than they had for years as she watched Aithan spend long minutes sliding his fingers into him as Rhys groaned and his hips twitched. It was heady. Intoxicating.

Aithan pressed the tip of his cock against Rhys and gripped his hips. Then he pushed inside.

Rhys made a choking sound. “Dear god,” he breathed, one hand closing into a tight fist.

Cora watched as Aithan pushed himself inside one small fraction of an inch at a time, until he was completely enclosed. Then she let out a shuddering breath. “I might come just from watching you….”

“Not yet, you can’t,” Rhys’ voice was strained, thick with pleasure. “Not until one of us makes you.”

She picked up the rhythm of her hand along his cock, enjoying the heat, the throbbing and the way his hips twitched and his breath shook. As she stroked, Aithan pulled out of Rhys until he was nearly completely withdrawn, then slid back into him smoothly.

Rhys threw his head back. “I can’t stand it…” He was shaking.

“You’re not supposed to.” Aithan’s breath was rough, too. He pushed back into him.

Rhys groaned, shuddering. Cora felt his cock pulse heavily in her hand. He came hard, his hips thrusting, which made Aithan pull in a sharp breath.

Cora thought she might melt. Her body was white hot, her heart a runaway mess. As Rhys strained and gasped his way through his climax, Aithan gave a soft exclamation, his hips working hard as he came, too.

Cora slid back onto the bed, trying to calm her heart and still her frenetic pulse. But as Aithan slipped into the bathroom, Rhys followed her onto the bed and kissed her, pulling her into his arms. He was shaking, but his hands ran over her body. It felt like they were everywhere at once.

Cora gave up trying to bring her heart back under control and instead let herself enjoy Rhys’ kisses. His lips moved down her throat to her breast and he nipped at the tip, drawing it up with his teeth, while his hand stroked the other and tugged the nipple between his fingers.

She realized she was squirming helplessly on the bed when Aithan anchored her hips, holding her still. Then he parted her thighs. She couldn’t see what he intended for Rhys’ head was in the way. She could only see Aithan looking down at her with a mischievous smile.

Fingers stroked her inner thighs, close enough to her pussy that she could feel the heat of them against her flesh. Then along the soft flesh on either side and up to her clit, which gave out a hard throb. As Rhys’ mouth and hand on her breasts felt as though there was a direct connection to her clit, Aithan’s touch made her cry out. Her climax gathered, growing.

Aithan pushed his fingers inside her, the knuckles and tips sliding along the walls of her pussy, making them ripple and squeeze. Her hips lifted in response and it seemed to be the reaction he was waiting for. He bent his head and his mouth clamped over her clit. His tongue drove against the heated bud, stroking firmly. His fingers thrust in and out.

Cora dug her fingers into the satin cover, her eyes closing all on their own. Pleasure leapt, tightening her tendons, making her arch. It came in waves, building and building.

When she came, she screamed, her body straining as the climax gripped and shook her. She shuddered with the power of it and for a moment conscious thought grayed out.

Rhys kissed her and gathered her in his arms, then rolled onto his back, bringing her with him. She rested on him, looking into his blue eyes.

“Hi,” he said, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

“Hi.”

Hot lips pressed against her shoulder and she looked at Aithan as his hand slid down her flank, to settle on her hip. His dark eyes were warm. Almost…happy.

“Lift up,” he told her, trying to raise her hip.

She pushed her knees under her and lifted.

Rhys’ cock pushed against her very moist pussy and Aithan lowered her down onto him. She caught her breath as Rhys slid inside. He was hard and heated against her. Her clit stirred and her pussy seemed to ripple around him, squeezing.

Rhys let out a heavy breath.

Aithan stroked her nether cheeks, then slid his hand between them. She felt the slickness of lubricant, then forgot about that as his finger pressed against her ass. The sensation was odd…but very nice. Especially the way Aithan was doing it, circling around, stroking in gradually firmer strokes. Then he pushed inside her and she caught her breath. “More,” she choked out. Her body was tingling, reacting.

He pushed another finger inside, entering her with little effort. He worked his fingers, stretching her and Cora tried hard not to wiggle or squeeze.

Rhys let out another rushed breath. “You’re clamping around me.”

“I can’t help it.”

“Not a complaint.” He swallowed.

The blunt tip of Aithan’s cock took the place of his fingers, nudging hard against her, seeking entry.

“Breathe,” Aithan said, his voice soft. “Breathe and relax. You’re going to love this.”

She already knew she would. She was starting to shake again, as nerves fizzed and flared and made muscles quiver in response.

Aithan pressed again and then he was suddenly inside. He paused, with the tip of his cock just within. Cora could feel herself adjusting to the sensation of being spread open. Her muscles relaxed.

Then, very slowly, he moved deeper inside.

Cora tried to breathe. Tried to focus. But all she could do was pant as the two cocks seemed to spread her and fill her. All control had deserted her. She was trembling.

“Now sit up,” Aithan said. “Slowly.”

“I don’t think I can,” Cora whispered. “My muscles have all melted.”

“The gentleman beneath you can do all the work,” Aithan said. It sounded like he was smiling.

Rhys grinned and sat up. Slowly. It brought them both up into a sitting position, with Rhys and Aithan still lodged inside her.

Cora let out a shaking breath as she felt Aithan settle up against her back. Her breasts were pressed against Rhys’ chest, her thighs around his hips.

For a moment they were all still, absorbing the sensation of being joined together.

“I can feel you inside her,” Rhys said wonderingly.

“I think this might be addictive,” Cora breathed. She looked at Aithan over her shoulder. “No one ever demanded a repeat performance from you, Aithan? Ever?”

“I’ve never done this before,” he said.

The little silence fell again.

“A ménage?” Rhys clarified. He sounded puzzled. “You never took more than one person to bed?”

“Many times. Two women. Two men. But never this. Never joined this way.”

Cora rested her head against Rhys’ shoulder. She didn’t know what to say.

“I think I’m falling in love with you,” Rhys said.

She lifted her head and looked at him and Rhys kissed her gently. “I’ve always been half in love with you.” He looked at Aithan. “But now I think I’m half in love with you.”

Aithan’s expression was one of bewilderment. “But…you can’t. Not me.”

It was Aithan’s stunned face and Rhys’ gentle kiss. Combined, they caught at Cora’s throat. Her eyes prickled hard and tears gathered. Rhys wiped her cheeks as they spilled. “Hey,” he said, alarmed.

She shook her head. “As soon as you said it, I knew,” she whispered. “I love you both. But….” Her tears came harder. “I never wanted to fall in love with anyone,” she said. There, it was out. Spoken aloud.

“Why not, ma chérie?” Aithan asked, his voice gentle.

“My…my family.”

Rhys wiped her cheeks again. “Are they still alive?”

“All of them. I think. I haven’t been back since I was turned, five years ago. It was part of the deal, part of the conditions when they turned me. But I was glad to accept. Glad to get away.”

“Southern families, some of the older ones,” Aithan said. “They can be very large.”

“Mine is one of the oldest in Texas,” Cora admitted. “We counted fourth cousins as close kin and love was used as leverage to keep us all towing the family line.”

Both of them grew still. Rhys just watched her.

“I broke my neck climbing out of a third floor window in my wedding dress,” Cora whispered.

“You wanted to get away from them that much?” Aithan asked.

“The wedding wasn’t my idea. But my father explained that I had to go through with it. If I loved him…if I loved my family, I would do what was best for them. I found myself in satin and lace and four hundred guests, most of them family, in the parlor below. So I climbed out of the window and slipped.” She swallowed. “I woke up in Austin, twenty-four hours later. My long lost and most favorite cousin Braydon was sitting on the bed opposite me. I thought he’d died.”

“But he’d been turned,” Rhys concluded.

“And he’d sneaked back into town to watch the wedding. He watched me fall and took me away before anyone knew what had happened. Then he turned me and gave me a choice.”

“Death, or eternal separation from your family,” Rhys guessed.

“It wasn’t a hard choice.” She tried to smile.

“That’s why you don’t like other supernaturals moving into Erie,” Aithan said. “You get to be as human as you want if there’s no one around to remind you you’re not. You get to be alone and independent.”

“Alone and able to make my own decisions. Except here I am being pulled around by an invisible force, inside a world I never really wanted to join.”

They were both silent. Tense.

Cora picked up Aithan’s hand, pulling his arm over her shoulder and smiled at Rhys as she kissed Aithan’s palm. “That’s what I was so wrong about,” she added.

Aithan turned her chin and kissed her cheek. “Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Then let’s seal the bond now.”

Rhys drew in a long, slow breath. “Yes. It’s time,” he said flatly. He lifted his arm. “A sip for each of us. Right?”

“I should go first,” Cora said, lifting her wrist to her mouth.

“Why?” Rhys asked, puzzled.

“If what I hear is true,” Aithan said, “then Cora biting into either of us is likely to bring an instant end to the joining.”

Rhys still looked puzzled.

“There’s an aphrodisiac in my bite,” Cora explained. “You’ll come almost instantly.” She hesitated. “And there’s another reason.” She looked away and let her teeth descend.

“Don’t hide,” Aithan said quickly. “I want to see.”

“Me, too,” Rhys added.

Cora found it very difficult to look at either of them, until Rhys slid his fingers across her cheek. “It won’t make me love you any less,” he said gently.

It gave her the courage to look at him. She lifted her wrist to her mouth and deliberately let her lip lift to show the incisors, then bit into her flesh. The tearing sensation barely registered. Neither did the blood, which was hers. She held her arm out to Rhys. “Quickly, before it heals over. Just a sip.”

He placed his mouth over the wound and she felt him draw the blood into his mouth. He straightened up, his lips touched with it.

“You have to swallow,” Aithan told him.

Rhys nodded and his throat worked as he complied. Then he cleared his throat. “It doesn’t taste like I thought blood would.”

Cora brought her healed wrist back to her mouth. This time, she found it easier to bite with Rhys watching. She reopened the wound and held her arm up to Aithan, swaying sideways so she could look at him.

He didn’t hesitate. His lips pressed against her flesh and he drew a mouthful from her, then swallowed. His thumb brushed over her wrist as the flesh healed and the wound disappeared. “Delightful,” he declared.

“Now you,” she told Aithan. “You’re not human. The aphrodisiac may be blunted. And besides, you’ve had a lot of practice holding yourself off from…well…”

Aithan smiled. “Never a truer word,” he said and held up his wrist. “I don’t know what I will taste like.”

“Let’s see.” Cora bit into his wrist, right over where the big vein should be.

Aithan groaned and she felt his cock throb inside her. Her body responded with a tingling.

Blood moved sluggishly from his wrist and she drew it into her mouth. She had no reaction to it. It had very little taste. She swallowed and lifted her mouth away and looked at the wound. “Red!”

Aithan looked at as well. His mouth opened and his eyes widened. “It’s red,” he repeated, dazed.

“What is it supposed to be?” Rhys asked. “Black?” He said it jokingly.

Cora glanced at him and his expression sobered. “I see.”

She drew Aithan’s arm farther over her shoulder, holding his wounded wrist out toward Rhys. “Drink,” she said.

He brought his hand under Aithan’s wrist and leaned over it…and hesitated.

“You have to drink,” Cora urged him.

He looked up at Aithan. “Will it hurt me?” he asked.

“And now we come to the crux of it,” Aithan said. His voice was tight, hard. “You think you’re in love, but you can’t commit, when it comes right down to it.”

Rhys immediately pressed his mouth to Aithan’s wrist and sucked. He swallowed without hesitation, then pulled on Aithan’s arm, drawing him even closer as Cora bent out of the way. Rhys kissed Aithan and held his head. “I do love you. But you are a demon. If I curl up and die because of your blood, I’ll haunt you the rest of your life. And don’t tell me there’s no such things as ghosts. Not with a demon and a vampire in the same room with me.”

Aithan let his head rest against Rhys’ for a moment. Then he sat up and looked at Cora. “Rhys’ turn. I’ll watch you.”

“Watch her for what?” Rhys asked sharply, his arm lowering.

Cora’s heart fluttered.

“She’s never tasted human blood before,” Aithan said calmly. “Vampires have been using synthetic blood for about thirty years now. The taste of real blood might trigger a reaction.”

Rhys shook his head. “It has to be done.” He held his wrist up toward her.

Cora lifted it up to her mouth. “Brace yourself,” she told him.

Aithan laughed.

She bit and tore and Rhys immediately tensed. His pelvis lifted and he drove into her even more deeply. His eyes closed and he gasped.

“Drink,” Aithan urged her. “Hurry.”

It was difficult to draw the thick liquid into her mouth and Cora knew she was afraid.

“If he climaxes before you drink, we’ll have to start again,” Aithan urged.

She sucked quickly and Rhys groaned again. He was trembling, his cock shifting inside her.

Then the ambrosial taste of the blood registered. She had drunk mulled wine once at a party in New England and this had the same pleasure about it. Spicy, hot and delicious. Endlessly drinkable.

“Cora!” Aithan was shaking her.

Cora let go of Rhys’ wrist, horror washing through her.

“It’s all right. You only took a bit,” Aithan assured her. He picked up Rhys’ wrist and brought it to his mouth. He drank quickly.

Rhys still had his eyes closed. Sweat sheened at his temples.

Aithan put his hand back on the bed. “Now, Rhys,” he said softly.

Rhys gasped and gripped Cora’s hips. His eyes opened. The blue had never seemed more pure and intense. Aithan’s hands came down over Rhys’

They both held her as they drove themselves into her. Her body instantly caught fire and she gasped as her climax began to build. She had no control over her body at all. All she could do was let the pleasure take her as Rhys and Aithan thrust together.

Her orgasm was intense, tearing through her, searing nerve ends and grabbing at her throat as she lifted her chin and screamed, her voice strained with the power of it.

She was gripping and squeezing both of them, her internal muscles milking them and they came with heavy groans, their fingers digging into her.

For long moments they stayed still and Cora listened to the two hearts beating on either side of her. Contentment filled her.

To me! Trinities, to me! It was Seaveth’s voice in her head, like a mental hook, dragging Cora out of their arms and onto the cover, scrambling to find her feet and run. “Seaveth! The Grimoré are attacking! We have to go! Hurry!”

Rhys and Aithan rolled off the bed and while Cora’s heart hammered out the passing seconds, they hurried downstairs and dressed. Rhys pulled out his gun and Cora grabbed the knife from the chopping block in the kitchen and held her arms out to them. “Hurry, hurry!” she urged.

“Convenient timing,” Aithan observed as he stepped into her arm.

“Deliberate timing, I’m sure,” Rhys said. “They wanted to stop the bonding. They don’t know it’s too late yet.”

Cora pulled him to her. “Hold on,” she warned them and jumped.

Chapter Ten

Cora looked around at the fir trees and the dark night sky as Aithan and Rhys moved to either side of her. “Why, this is the south end of Erie.” Through the trees, she could see the cleared and worked-over land where a building corporation was starting a development. There was no one there now, for it was past midnight. There was just the orange glow of sodium arc security lights, running off their own generator.

Then she became aware of the low animal growling behind her and turned. They were standing in a natural clearing, filled with old, burned out trees. There was grass and stumps everywhere, but the forest hadn’t grown over the fire scars yet.

On the other side stood a row of Grimoré, their pale faces almost glowing in the little bit of moonlight filtering through the trees. Behind them, among the trees themselves, darker shadows moved.

Vampeen. Lots of them.

Cora gripped her knife.

“Cora, Aithan, Rhys, welcome,” Seaveth said.

On the same side of the clearing they were on, Seaveth stood with many others. On her left was Lindal. Over by a petite Hispanic woman was the man they had called Wyatt. All of them held weapons.

“You have sealed the bond?” Seaveth asked.

“Barely,” Aiden said dryly.

“How did you even know the Grimoré were here?” Cora asked.

“Ferr warned us,” Lindal said.

Seaveth nodded toward the grim array of Grimoré. “They were not expecting us, though,” she said. “Which is why we stand at this impasse. They’re reconsidering.”

“You don’t have a weapon, Aithan,” Lindal said, sounding concerned.

Aithan seemed amused. “I don’t need one.”

“I can see,” Rhys muttered. “Colors, details. What the hell?”

“You are your trinity’s hunter, Rhys,” Seaveth said calmly. “All your senses will be enhanced, now.”

He pulled out his Browning and cocked it. “Good,” he said shortly, staring at the Grimoré.

“Beth?” Lindal asked quietly.

“Do we attack?” she said, as if she was repeating something Lindal had said. “It’s a novel question.” She lifted her long knife. “Let’s attack. I’m sick of being on the back foot.”

Cora lifted her cleaver and glanced at Rhys and Aithan. “Together,” she said.

“Always,” Rhys said.

They ran for the Grimoré.

* * * * *

They returned to Cora’s townhouse as dawn was threatening, turning the lake water pink and red to match the clouds overhead.

“Red in the morning, shepherd’s warning,” Aithan said, looking through the window.

“If I don’t get some sleep in the next little while,” Rhys said, “the warning will be about me.”

Cora drew him into the en suite and turned on the shower for him. “First, wash off the blood,” she said. “The bed will be waiting for you when you’re done.”

He caught her wrist. “Shower with me.” He looked over her shoulder. “Both of you.”

There was barely room for the three of them, so they clung together, letting the steaming hot water cascade over their shoulders, washing each other as far as they could reach.

Cora and Aithan led Rhys to bed and Aithan slid under the covers with Rhys. “I’ll stay with him,” he told Cora.

Rhys look startled, but he dropped his head onto the pillow with a sigh. “Too tired to argue,” he said.

Aithan pulled him over on to his other side. “I can see you’ve never slept with anyone before.” He curled his body around Rhys’ and tucked his arm over his waist. “Now sleep,” he murmured.

Cora smiled. “I think he already is,” she whispered, studying Rhys’ relaxed face and closed eyes. “I’ll get you some breakfast.”

“That sounds like paradise,” Aithan whispered back.

She smiled and crept away to the kitchen to make bagels. The dough was proving when Rhys cried out.

“Cora! Get up here!”

She moved faster than she ever had in her life, far faster than a human could, reaching the bedroom a bare few seconds later.

Rhys was kneeling on the end of the bed. The covers had been thrown violently to one side.

Aithan sat on the floor with his back against the end of the bed. His arms were wrapped around his drawn up knees like he was cold. He was staring sightlessly ahead.

“He woke me,” Rhys said. “Throwing himself about. Then he curled up there.”

Cora sat next to Aithan, feeling the surprising heat of him once more. “Rhys,” she said softly, picking up Aithan’s hand and holding it. He didn’t resist her grip.

Rhys settled on Aithan’s other side and held his other hand. “Hey,” he said softly. “Aithan.”

“What’s wrong?” Cora asked. “Tell us so we can help you.”

The shivering became a shuddering. Then he drew in a ragged, tortured breath. “I can remember.” His breath hiccupped.

Cora could feel the tension in his hand. “Remember what?”

His shuddering grew worse. “I remember being human.” His voice was strained. “All of it. The deal with the devil. Me…for my little sister. I remember how he laughed. Oh, God…” He closed his eyes, but that didn’t stop real tears squeezing out from under them, to run down his face.

Rhys swallowed. “Damn,” he breathed.

“I remember what love is,” Aithan whispered. He smiled despite the tears. “I remember love.”

The next book in the
Destiny’s Trinities series

Book 5 in the Destiny’s Trinities series will be released in 2016.

In the meantime, if you like vampires and ménage:

Blood Knot: A Vampire Menage Urban Fantasy Romance – The Blood Stone Series Book 1

To survive they must trust each other. Only…can they?

Winter, a professional thief who can manipulate others’ biologies by touch, accidentally “healed” her former partner—and former vampire—Sebastian, whom she secretly loves. Her healing created a symbiotic pairing between them that neither of them wants.

Nathanial, a sexy thousand-year-old vampire and Sebastian’s ex-lover, talks Sebastian and Winter into stealing evidence that will expose all vampires to the world. But Nathanial is a puppet-master who doesn’t believe in falling in love with humans, leaving Winter unsure of his real feelings for her once he seduces her, or how he feels about Sebastian, the former vampire-now-human whose life he has turned upside down once more.

But the evidence they steal is hot property. The future of all vampires is on the line and others will stop at nothing to get it, leaving Sebastian, Winter and Nathanial with no allies but each other. They must trust each other to survive. Only...can they?

WARNING:  This paranormal MMF urban fantasy contains two hot, sexy alpha heroes, frequent, explicit and frank sex scenes and sexual language.
It includes heart-stopping sexual scenes between the aforementioned sexy heroes, ménage scenes, anal sex and the use of sex toys. Don't proceed beyond this point if hot love scenes offend you.
No vampires were harmed in the making of this novel.

This book is part of the Blood Stone Series
Blood Stone 1: Blood Knot (#1 Amazon Best Seller, Fantasy Romance)
Blood Drops 1.1: Southampton Swindle*
Blood Drops 1.2: Broken Promise
Blood Drops 1.3: Vale
Blood Drops 1.5: Amor Meus
Blood Stone 2: Blood Stone
Blood Stone 3: Blood Unleashed
Blood Stone 3.5: Blood Drive – Blood Stone Boxed Set 1
Blood Stone 4: Blood Revealed (Upcoming)

[*Blood Drops are short and novella length stories featuring the characters and situations in the Blood Stone series.  Droplet sized morsels for your reading pleasure.]

These are continuing characters and storylines. Reading the series in order is strongly recommended.
____

#1 Best-Selling Fantasy, Futuristic & Ghost Romance Amazon Best-Seller
Top 100, Amazon Vampire Romance Best-Seller
Winner of the Coffee Time Reviewer’s Recommended Award
Listed as one of Goodread’s “Most Drool-worthy Covers“
Nominated for Erotic Vampire Book of the Year by The Romance Reviews, November 2011
CAPA Nomination, Best Paranormal Book of the Year by The Romance Studio, December, 2011

5 Stars -
Not only do you get to read a brilliantly written story, but a novel full of different elements that add hard-edged curves, unbelievable circumstances, and overwhelming odds.
Coffee Time Romance & More

5 Stars
- I’m blown away by the experience of this book. There was so much intensity between the characters, the chemistry between Winter, Nial and Sebastian left me panting in places…I emerged with a lump in my throat, tears in my eyes and my heart racing.
The Bookish Snob

5 Stars
- I lost a little of my heart to each of these characters. If you’re a fan of hot urban fantasy (and I do mean oven mit HOT), pick up
Blood Knot, you won’t be disappointed.
Alternative Read

5 Stars
- This is one of those hidden gems in the self-publishing world. I haven’t read a better love story than
Blood Knot in a very long time. This one is her best so far. Don’t miss it.
The Romance Studio

About the Author

Tracy Cooper-Posey is an Amazon #1 Best Selling Author. She writes erotic vampire romances, hot romantic suspense, paranormal and urban fantasy romances. She has published over 70 novels since 1999, been nominated for five CAPAs including Favourite Author, and won the Emma Darcy Award.

She turned to indie publishing in 2011. Her indie titles have been nominated four times for Book Of The Year and Byzantine Heartbreak was a 2012 winner. She has been a national magazine editor and for a decade she taught romance writing at MacEwan University.

She is addicted to Irish Breakfast tea and chocolate, sometimes taken together. In her spare time she enjoys history, Sherlock Holmes, science fiction and ignoring her treadmill. An Australian, she lives in Edmonton, Canada with her husband, a former professional wrestler, where she moved in 1996 after meeting him on-line.

Her website can be found at http://TracyCooperPosey.com. Tracy appreciates hearing from readers and can be reached at Tracy@TracyCooperPosey.com.

Other books by Tracy Cooper-Posey

.

Blood Knot Series (Urban Fantasy Paranormal Series)

Blood Knot
Southampton Swindle
Broken Promise
Vale
Amor Meus
Blood Stone
Blood Unleashed
Blood Drive
Blood Revealed

Beloved Bloody Time Series (Paranormal Futuristic Time Travel)

Bannockburn Binding
Wait
Byzantine Heartbreak
Viennese Agreement
Romani Armada

Spartan Resistance

Kiss Across Time Series (Paranormal Time Travel)

Kiss Across Time
Kiss Across Swords
Missing

Time Kissed Moments I
Kiss Across Chains
Kiss Across Deserts

The Kine Prophecies (Epic Norse Fantasy Romance)

The Branded Rose Prophecy

The Stonebrood Saga(Gargoyle Paranormal Series)

Carson’s Night
Beauty’s Beasts
Harvest of Holidays
Sabrina’s Clan

Destiny’s Trinities (Urban Fantasy Romance Series)

Beth’s Acceptance
Mia’s Return
Sera’s Gift
Cora’s Secret

Short Paranormals

Solstice Surrender
Eva’s Last Dance

The Vistaria Affair (Romantic Suspense)

Red Leopard
Black Heart
Blue Knight
White Dawn
Silver Noon (Upcoming)
Golden Day (Upcoming)

Go-get-‘em Women (Short Romantic Suspense Series)

The Royal Talisman
Delly’s Last Night
Vivian’s Return
Ningaloo Nights
Sian’s Run (Upcoming)

Jewells of Tomorrow (Historical Romantic Suspense)

Diana By The Moon
Heart of Vengeance
The Perilous Maiden (Upcoming)
To Soothe a Savage Heart (Upcoming)
The Heart of the Enemy (Upcoming)
The Cherlebury Rose (Upcoming)
The Duchess of Winter (Upcoming)
Despite The Sands Of Time (Upcoming)

Scandalous Sirens (Historical Romance Series)

Forbidden
Dangerous Beauty
Rhys Davies’ untitled story (Upcoming)

Romantic Thrillers Series

Fatal Wild Child
Dead Again
Dead Double
Terror Stash
Thrilling Affair

Contemporary Romances

Lucifer’s Lover
An Inconvenient Lover

The Sherlock Holmes Series (Romantic Suspense/Mystery)

Chronicles of the Lost Years
The Case of the Reluctant Agent

For reviews, excerpts, and more about each title, visit Tracy’s site and click on each title in turn: http://tracycooperposey.com/books/tracys-trilogies-series/

Copyright Information

This is an original publication of Tracy Cooper-Posey

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for third-party websites or their content.

Copyright © 2015 by Tracy Cooper-Posey
Text design by Tracy Cooper-Posey

Cover by Dar Albert
Wicked Smart Designs
http://WickedSmartDesigns.com

Edited by Helen Woodall
http://HelenWoodallFreelanceEditing.blogspot.com/

All rights reserved
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

FIRST EDITION: May 2015

Cooper-Posey, Tracy
Cora’s Secret/Tracy Cooper-Posey—1st Ed.

Romance—Fiction
Paranormal – Fiction