Embraced By Darkness

Chapter Two

I stopped.

How could I not? I might not have seen my mother since we'd been thrown out of the pack at sixteen, but that didn't mean I didn't love her. Didn't mean I wanted her dead.

She was my mother, for Christ's sake.

I swung around. "Trust me, Blake. You do not want to go this route. It's a very bad thing to do."

His smile was arrogant. Confident. "There's nothing the Directorate can do to me. I'm well within the law to chastise my pack as I see fit. If a pack member dies during meted justice?" He shrugged. "The law will not intervene unless the event is reported as something more than fair punishment. And no one in this pack will report it."

"I can report it. I can investigate it. And trust me, you would not want me or Rhoan anywhere near that pack. We're no longer the helpless cubs you booted out."

"And we are no longer the dying pack you remember. We've grown stronger, richer. More influential."

Yeah, and I knew exactly how. My ability to shadow had provided a means of learning more than a few pack secrets. And if the pack was now rich, it certainly hadn't been via hard work and good money management.

I shook my head. "You really have no idea who you're dealing with, Blake." No idea what he was dealing with.

"I want this problem dealt with. Then I will leave you, your half-breed brother, and your mother alone."

I shifted from one foot to the other, the need to run fighting with the need to wipe that cold look of satisfaction off his face. The twin desires made my muscles twitch. "And Konner? What's he got to say about all this?"

Blake's grin was gloating. "I defeated your grandfather in battle one year after you left. His ashes were scattered across his favorite hunting trail, as he requested."

I stared at him for a moment, not sure what to think. What to feel.

There'd been no love lost between our grandfather and us, and he'd turned his back on much of the trouble we'd had with Blake and his get. Yet he'd housed the three of us, fed us, made sure we never wanted for anything basic, and had never allowed the games to go too far—except for the one time Blake had thrown me off the mountain. And even then, his hands were tied. Pack rules gave the second-in-command the right to punish as he saw fit—at least when it came to matters of insubordination.

And now my grandfather was dead, killed in a battle for leadership. I closed my eyes, and tried to fight the bloody images that came to mind. I'd only ever seen one fight for dominance in a pack, and it hadn't been pretty. Such fights were always done in wolf form, and almost always ended in the death of the old leader. Such were the ways of our wild cousins, and they had always been ours, too.

And the law allowed it, because it came under the title of religious beliefs and customs.

Which was just another way of sanctifying murder, if you asked me. Unfortunately, no one was ever likely to do that.

"If you've got a list of names, send them to me tonight," I said. "I can check them against the island's records."

"I've already done that."

"And I intend to redo it, because I may see something that you missed." I crossed my arms and stared at his ethereal form. "I don't want you harassing my every step, Blake, or I will have the full force of the Directorate brought down on the pack's head."

"Patrin wants regular reports."

"I don't give a—"

He held up a hand. "Yeah, I know. Tough."

I glowered at him. He stared back. For several seconds neither of us moved, then he sighed and rubbed a hand across his eyes. "What is your phone number? I'll send you the list of names and whatever other information I have."

I gave him my cell phone number, and added, "Have you got any recent pictures of Adrienne?"

"Yes. I'll send a couple."

At least with photos I could ask around, see if anyone remembered her. See if they remembered who she hooked up with. "What about the families of the other victims? Send me their contact details as well, if you have them."

"I will."

"Good. Now fuck off so I can sleep."

His smile was thin. "I will check in tomorrow night for a progress report."

"I wait with bated breath."

His body faded, dissolving into wisps of color that were whisked away by the freshening wind. I shivered and rubbed my arms, my gaze searching the trees to be sure—really sure—he was gone.

Then I turned around and made my way back to my villa. Once inside, I picked up the vid-phone and dialed my brother. It was the middle of the night and he'd more than likely be asleep, but I didn't care. I needed to talk to him.

The phone rang several times before the receiver was picked up and a sleepy voice said, "Hello?"

It wasn't Rhoan's voice, but Liander's. He didn't have the screen on, either—for which I should probably have been glad. Neither Liander nor Rhoan were pretty sights when woken in the wee hours of the morning.

"Hey, makeup man, how you doing?"

There was a long silence, then he said, in a voice that was a mix of tiredness and annoyance, "Do you know what time it is?"

"Yep. I need to talk to Rhoan."

"He's under the weather."

"I don't care what he is or how he's feeling." The loving sister, that was me. "I need to talk to him."

Rhoan muttered something in the background. It didn't take a whole lot of imagination to guess what, but Liander told me anyway. "He's right. You can be a bitch at times."

"Totally. Now stop protecting him and put him on."

He did. "You're a pain in the ass, Riley," Rhoan said, voice croaky and words slightly slurred. "Why the hell are you ringing at this hour?"

"Thought you might like to know about the visitor I just had."

He paused, then said, "Have you been drinking again?"

"Not since last night."

"Then why the hell would you be ringing me in the middle of the night about a visitor? If you're that damn lonely, come home."

"The visitor's name was Blake."

"So?"

"As in, Blake Jenson. Former second-in-command, now leader, of the Jenson red pack."

He paused, then said, "Fuck."

I dropped down on a chair and draped a leg over the padded arm. "Something I said more than once."

"What the hell was Blake doing on Monitor Island?"

"He wasn't here in body, just in spirit."

"What?" Bedsheets rustled as Rhoan moved. Liander muttered something about coffee and my brother made a grunt of agreement before adding, "How can he be there in spirit alone?"

"I'm presuming it's some form of astral travel. He said clairvoyance is a pack inheritance, so maybe the traveler bit is an offshoot of that."

"Maybe." He didn't sound convinced. Whether it was the whole traveler bit or my sanity was anyone's guess. "What did this spirit want?"

"My help."

"Okay, now I know you're yanking my chain. Pigs will fly before Blake would ask for our help."

"Better start ducking those flying piggies then, bro, because I'm totally serious."

He blew out a breath, "What help did he want?"

"Patrin's daughter has gone missing. He reckons it's connected to three other occurrences of missing females. He's even contacted the parents of one. Apparently, the one connection between them all is the feet that vacationed on Monitor Island for a few days before they disappeared."

"If they've disappeared, let the cops handle it."

"I did mention that we don't do disappearances, but he seemed intent on ignoring that."

"Then ignore him right back. There's not a whole lot he can do about it. We're out of the pack and beyond his control."

"He threatened to kill Mom if we didn't help him."

Rhoan didn't say anything for several long minutes. I got up and walked over to the bar fridge, opening it and retrieving one of the chocolate bars the hotel provided. They were hideously expensive, but then, everything on this island was.

"We have no responsibility for our mother," Rhoan said eventually. "She washed her hands of us when we left."

"She could have washed her hands of us when we were conceived. She didn't. She raised us not only against pack wishes, but against the wishes of her own father. We owe her our existence, Rhoan. If nothing else, we should repay the debt."

He muttered something I couldn't quite catch, then the bed sheets rustled again. Perhaps Liander had come back with the coffee. I tore the chocolate wrapper off with my teeth and bit into the rich treat. It was mint chip—not my favorite, but beggars couldn't be choosers.

"What does Blake want?"

"For us to find Patrin's daughter."

"And the others?"

"I don't think he cares about them, other than the fact they might provide useful leads."

Rhoan snorted. "He hasn't changed any, then."

"He's the leader of the pack now, Rhoan. He has the power he always longed for, and it shows."

"The bastard couldn't possibly get any more arrogant."

"You want to bet?"

"No." He paused, and must have taken a sip of coffee, because the slurp came down the line. "If the cops and missing persons can't find them, what makes him think we can?"

"He knows we're guardians."

"For someone who never wanted to see us again, he seems to know an awful lot about us."

"Because he wants our help, and he intends to get it one way or another."

Rhoan sighed. "So, what arc you ringing me to do?"

"He's sending me a picture of Adrienne, as well as the information he has on the other missing girls. I'll pass a copy on to you. I need you to sec what you can find about Adrienne's whereabouts over the past week."

"You'll check your end?"

"Yeah. Though I'm not expecting any big revelations. The fact that they all disappeared after they'd returned home suggests there has to be some factor other than this island."

"You'd think so." He yawned. "Is that it?"

"For now. Enjoy the rest of your night, bro."

"Thanks, bitch."

I grinned. "I'm sure Liander will be willing to rock you to sleep."

"I'm sure he won't. I might just puke, the way my stomach is feeling. I'll ring tomorrow if I find anything."

"Good. Night." I'd barely hung up when the phone bleeped to indicate an incoming message. From Blake. He certainly wasn't wasting any time. I forwarded a copy of the entire file to Rhoan, then finished the rest of the chocolate and rose to my feet. The size of the file suggested there was a fair bit of information, and there was no way I was going to scroll through it all on the itty-bitty phone screen. I didn't have a laptop with me, but the hotel had a business center in their main lobby. I grabbed another bar of chocolate from the fridge, then headed over to the next cove.

The lobby was deserted. Though there was a concierge on duty, he was probably in a back room sipping coffee and watching the football replays. I padded across to the business center and swiped my keycard through the slot. The door clicked and I pushed it open. The only light in the room was the pale blue glow coming from the computer monitors, which was fine by me. I could see perfectly well in the dark, and if I turned on the lights, I might attract the attention of the concierge. And yakking about banalities wasn't in my plans at three in the morning.

I moved the mouse to get the screen up and running, then attached the phone to the USB port and opened the file. I'd been right—it was huge, and filled with various comments, photos, a sketch of the man Adrienne had supposedly met on the island, and reports from the various police departments. Obviously, Blake had some very serious contacts if he was able to get hold of these.

I flicked through the files, scanning the information. Not all the women lived in Melbourne—one lived in Ballarat, a regional city in the heart of Victoria, and the other lived in Yarrawonga, a city on the border of Victoria and New South Wales.

And despite what Blake had said, all four women had actually disappeared at different times after their return home. The first victim had disappeared close to eight days after, and the other two at day three and day five. Adrienne had the shortest time gap—she'd vanished straightaway. None of the women had been seen since, and there'd been no credit or banking activity in any of their accounts.

The other women were remarkably similar in looks, too. They were all tall and athletic—the sort that looked as if they could run twenty miles without a drop of sweat marring their makeup—and all three had blonde hair, and either blue or green eyes. Adrienne was the odd one out in that her hair was red and her eyes gray, but it wasn't the classical red of our pack, more a wispy, dark-strawberry blonde.

Which suggested Adrienne's mom wasn't red pack. Once upon a time, that would not have been possible, but just before we'd been kicked out of the pack, our grandfather had overturned the age-old policy that forbid the red pack breeding with anyone other than red pack members—a policy meant to maintain the so-called purity of the pack he and past alphas had prized so much—and had finally allowed the intermingling with other packs and colors. In an effort, of course, to counter the pack's increasingly problematic fertility issues and the declining birthrate. It was a policy Blake had obviously allowed to continue if the pack was now prosperous.

I leaned back in the chair and stared at the screen. Was there something going on here? Or was Blake reading more into the situation than there really was? Okay, the women had seemingly disappeared, but the only thing all four had in common was the fact that they'd spent time on this island. But a lot of single women came through this place, so why would these four be the ones to disappear?

And why would the kidnappers wait rather than doing the deed when the women were on holiday far from family, friends, and their regular schedule?

It made no sense.

I frowned and rechecked the file for dates. One a month for the last three months. Adrienne was again the aberration, disappearing two weeks after the third woman. But that itself meant nothing. People disappeared every day, every hour, the world over, and many of them for reasons other than foul play.

I clicked back to the photos, and again was struck by their similarities. And Adrienne's differences.

I tapped my fingers against the desk, intrigued despite myself. As much as I hated the man, I very much doubted Blake was crying wolf. Not when his own get was involved. Something had to be happening, no matter how unlikely it seemed from reading these files.

I needed to question the parents of the other women, Blake might have questioned one lot already, but he had an emotional investment in this whole mess and probably wouldn't have been listening to the responses with a critical ear. He was a tyrant, not an investigator.

I closed the file and unhooked my phone from the USB port. What next? I scrubbed my hand across my eyes, then looked down at the time. Nearly four. I should try to sleep, but adrenaline was still pumping through my veins and the itch to move, to dance, skittered across my skin. And not human-type dancing, either.

While wolf clubs weren't permitted on the island, they did have twenty-four-hour bars, complete with music—which, at this hour, was little more than an old man at a piano. There probably wasn't going to be many people there right now, but going to the bar was a better option than going back to my villa and drinking alone. At the very least, I could talk to the bartender. He might even recognize the picture Blake had sent me.

I shoved my phone into my pocket, then pushed back my chair and rose. My footsteps echoed as I walked across the empty lobby, but the concierge still didn't come out to greet me. Maybe he was asleep in his little back office.

Soft piano music greeted me as I entered the semi-darkness of the bar, but underneath the tinkling rode the murmur of conversation. I stopped on the top step, allowing my eyes to adjust as I looked around. This particular bar was one of the smaller ones, but it was right on the beach and had one whole wall that could be opened up. On nice nights, patrons could spread out into the sand or stroll through the waves. Tonight that wall was closed—probably because the weathermen were predicting storms—but the floor-to-ceiling windows offered little obstruction to the view. Surprisingly, there were at least a dozen people in here. Most of them were couples who cuddled in the cozy booths that ringed the remaining walls, but there were at least five others who sat by themselves and sipped drinks. Probably staff who'd just finished, I thought, as I clattered down the stairs and walked across to the bar. They had that "over-it-all" expression that workers around the world seemed to get after a long shift.

The bartender wandered down from the other end and gave me a somewhat bored-looking smile—his usual expression, from what I'd seen in my time here on the island. "You're up late, Ms. Jenson."

"Got an emergency phone call from a relative's mother," I said, fudging the truth only a little. "Apparently my cousin hasn't reported in for more than a week, and the mother is panicking."

"Mothers tend to do that," he said. "Would you like a drink?"

"Just a beer, thanks." I waited until he poured the drink, then added, "My cousin apparently met a man here. Mom seems to think if I find that man, I'll find her daughter."

"You didn't know she was here?"

I shook my head, then crossed my arms and leaned casually against his bar. With the low cut of my T-shirt, more than a small amount of breast was now on show. His gaze almost instantly wandered down. I might not want to play with him, but I wasn't above using a few tricks to keep his thoughts on my assets rather than making sense of what I was saying.

"He was a tall, blond man with gray eyes and big ears. His name was Jim. Jimmy Denton, I think."

He frowned, and his gaze rose briefly to mine, "That's me."

I looked him up and down. He was portly and middle-aged, and while he seemed like a nice man, I just couldn't imagine someone as young and as vibrant as Adrienne wanting to dance with someone like this. Though stranger things did happen when the moon lust was upon us. "Ummm, you're neither blond nor big eared."

He grinned. It was the first real expression I'd seen. "Thankfully. You sure your friend's mom got the right name?"

Well, no, because I was relying on Blake's report, and who knew how accurate that was? I pressed a button on my phone and retrieved the drawing, "This is a sketch of the man she's looking for."

"No, sorry, I can't remember seeing anyone who looks like that working here." He shrugged, his gaze wandering back down to my boobs, "But I could ask around, see if he was one of the transient workers, if you'd like."

"That would be great." I pressed another button, and retrieved one of the photos of Adrienne. "This is my cousin." I showed him the picture. "Do you remember seeing her at all?"

He studied the photo for a moment, then nodded. "Now her I remember."

I raised my eyebrows at the amusement in his tone. "Why?"

"She was running around, asking all sorts of questions."

"What sort of questions?"

"About some former guests—several women and a man, if I remember correctly. Some of the staff thought she might have been a private investigator, others a reporter. She was taking notes and stuff."

"No one here saw the notes? Read anything she wrote by accident?"

"Not that I'm aware." He paused, then said, "You know Jared Donovan, don't you?"

I held back my smile. How could I not know Jared? The man had been trying to get into my pants for the last three days. And if ever there was a human who could tempt me to look past ingrained prejudices, then he was it. He was tall, blond and athletic, with long strong fingers and a totally wicked smile.

Had he been wolf, I would have jumped his bones in an instant. As it was, I flirted with him probably more than was wise but, as tempting as he was, I just couldn't get past the whole human thing enough to bed him.

"I know him," I said, after a sip of beer. "Why?"

"Well, he likes to chat up all the pretty girls, so there's a good chance he talked to your friend. He might know more than me. I've got a wife, like."

Meaning, obviously, that he was restricted in the bedding department, but Jared the serial flirt was not. Why did humans bother getting married if they resented the vows that kept them together and exclusive? It was a weird way of doing things. At least us wolves didn't have that worry—once we made a vow to the moon, we were together for life. No ifs, buts, or maybes. Which is why we had to be very, very sure we'd found our soul mate before we committed. "Is Jared. on tomorrow at all?"

"I think he's manning the research station boat."

"That service starts up at ten, doesn't it?"

When he nodded, I lowered a shield and reached out psychically, quickly sorting through his thoughts and memories, looking for secrets or lies. There were a couple of odd smudges, as if someone had deliberately blurred certain memories, but it might have been alcohol induced, too. The results tended to look the same.

If someone had been in this man's mind, then they were damn good, because I could find no other trace of them. And certainly there was nothing more to add to the information Jim had already told me.

"Anything else I can help you with, Ms. Jenson?" he said, barely skipping a beat as I withdrew from his thoughts.

"No. But thanks for helping." I finished the rest of my beer, then, with nothing—and no one—else to amuse me, I headed back to my villa and tried to get some sleep. It was a long time coming, but I did eventually drift off, dreaming of bodiless faces who forced me off cliff tops.

I woke sweaty and less than rested. After showering, I got dressed, choosing tight shorts and another low-cut T, then grabbed my phone and wallet, and headed up to the hotel for breakfast and a little staff interrogation.

No one, it seemed, could remember seeing a staff member resembling the sketch Blake had sent. Plenty could remember Adrienne and, as the bartender had mentioned last night, they all seemed to think she was some sort of reporter or private investigator.

And she might have been, for all I knew.

Occupations had been absent from Blake's report, and I wasn't about to ring him and ask. The less contact I had with that bastard, the better.

One interesting point did come out of my questioning, however. Despite Blake's belief that she had danced with someone up here on the island, none of the staff could remember seeing her with anyone at all. She'd simply appeared on the island, stayed for several days questioning everyone who worked here, then left.

Which certainly smacked of reporter-like behavior. So if she was, how did she get onto the disappearances in the first place? The family trait of clairvoyance, perhaps? And had she come to this island investigating the disappearances, only to become a victim herself?

It certainly seemed that way.

But where did the sketch of the man parading as Jim Denton fit in?

There was the possibility that he was the man the other women had met on the island, and therefore the connection between the three disappearances. But if that were true, you'd think at least one of the staff would remember seeing him. But there wasn't a glimmer of recognition anywhere.

I leaned back in my chair and studied the ocean foam as it crawled up the sand only feet from my table. The first thing I had to do when I got home was check whether the man the other women had met here matched the description Blake had given me. If he did, then at least I'd uncovered the connection between the man, the other women, and Adrienne. Although it still didn't explain why no one here could remember him.

I glanced at my watch. It was nearly nine, so I only had an hour to kill before the research center opened to visitors. I ordered another cup of coffee, helped myself to some fruit and Danishes, and watched the cute waiter bustling around the room. My hormones were getting restless. Just as well I was going home to the man I cared about soon.

At ten I rose and wandered across to the little canteen that sold the entry tickets for the research center. Most of the activities on Monitor were included in the overall fees, but the research center and diving trips had to be paid for.

It wasn't until I'd opened my wallet to grab some cash that I realized my driver's license was missing. All my credit cards and cash were still there, but my license was gone. And no matter how much I looked in all the other little pockets or slots, I couldn't see the damn thing.

Either I'd lost it or I'd somehow managed to leave it at home. I rang Rhoan, left a message for him to check the apartment—and to use the Directorate system to report it as missing if it wasn't there—then walked across to the concierge. No licenses had been handed in, he said, but he'd let me know if it did appear.

With little else to do, I went down to the beach to wait for the little boat that would take me to the island. There was already an older couple waiting, and though they gave me a smile of greeting as I strolled up, they didn't actually say anything, too wrapped up in each other's company. Which was nice, I thought, I wondered if I'd ever find anyone to grow old with like that.

Kellen's image suddenly rose in my mind, and I couldn't help smiling. Part of me was already convinced that he was the one. The other part—the part that had been hurt before—was fighting to remain distant and take some time.

Of course, I'd always imagined that finding my soul mate would come like a bolt from the blue—that it would be an instant recognition of fate that blindsided us both—but perhaps that was simply expecting too much. The fact that I loved being with Kellen spoke volumes about the depths of my feelings for him. Hell, even the fact that I not only looked forward to uncovering more of his good points, but his bad as well, suggested I was definitely on the path to love. Whether it was soul-mate type love, or just a deep and caring relationship was something only time would tell.

I sat down on the little jetty and watched the motor-boat gradually growing larger on the horizon. By the time it had docked, other people had joined our little group, most of them couples, which left me feeling decidedly out of place. But then, that was a sensation I'd lived with half my life, thanks to Blake and his damn family.

So why was I helping him now?

It wasn't because of the threat. Not anymore. Truth was, his story intrigued that part of me I'd denied for so long. The hunter hunts—how often had my brother said that? And yet it had taken what amounted to betrayal and repeated attempted kidnappings for me to fully acknowledge the hunter within.

But the wolf was free and there was no stopping her now. And I knew deep down that Blake really hadn't needed the threat to make me follow up on this case. Curiosity would have had me looking, and sooner rather than later.

Curiosity would never make me like him, however, and I was glad he'd come visiting in spiritual form only. I needed to challenge the pack leader as much as I needed a hole in the head, and I had a feeling anger might have led me to do something stupid. The fact that I might have beaten him was irrelevant. I didn't need to get involved with my past any more than I currently was.

Besides, Blake wouldn't have taken a beating lying down. He'd make me pay, as he'd made me pay in the past. And I had a feeling his retribution now would be a whole lot worse than anything he'd done before. After all, I no longer had my grandfather's presence to offer some protection. And Blake was too arrogant to think Rhoan would ever take on the role of protector effectively.

I waited until the others had boarded before approaching the boat myself, Jared gave me a wide smile, his blue gaze sliding appreciatively down my body and sending a pleasant tingle zipping across my skin.

It really was a damn shame he was human.

"Hello, pretty lady," he said, his fingers wrapping around mine, trapping them in heat as he helped me into the boat. "I thought you'd already done this little tour?"

"I have, but I'm bored and needed someone decent to talk to." I met his gaze, a smile teasing my lips. "However, most of the decent men are taken, so you're it."

He laughed, a warm, free sound. "Better to be last choice than no choice, I guess."

"And I'm guessing being last choice isn't much of a problem for you."

His grin was almost wolfish. "Only with a certain reluctant werewolf." He raised my fingers to his lips and kissed them lightly. "But I guess I now have another chance to work on that."

"You can try, but I'm not going to change my mind."

"Half the fun is the chase," he said, then released me and made his way back to the front of the boat.

I have to admit, I enjoyed the view. Human or not, he had good shoulders, a nice ass, and long, strong legs. Legs I could so easily imagine wrapped around my waist as he drove deep inside… I thrust away the thought and blew out a breath.

Time to get back home to Kellen and the clubs, before I was tempted to do something stupid.

Jared untied the mooring rope then backed the boat away from the dock. Once free of the beach, he gunned the engine, and the nose of the boat rose. We surged over the waves, sometimes flying free over the sea before crashing down. I raised my face to the sun and the wind, drawing the freshness into my lungs, and enjoying the sensation of freedom and the thrill of the ride. Dogs, I thought, had it right when they hung their heads out of car windows.

It ended all too soon. I climbed out with the others but didn't follow them as they walked up the jetty toward the research center. Instead, I leaned against one of the pylons, and watched Jared as he finished tying off the boat. With that done, he walked over. I had to admit, the front view was as good as the back. The man could definitely work it.

"So," he said, stopping mere inches away from me, leaving the spicy scent and the heat to flow across my senses, teasing and arousing. "What would you like to do for the next hour or so?"

"How about we dangle our feet in the water and talk?"

"Not what I had in mind."

He raised a hand to my cheek, his caress light but sending a flush of heat right through my body. I stepped away, and resisted the urge to fan myself. Human or not, this man was hot.

"But it's all I'm offering," I said, and walked over to the end of the pier.

"You are no fun."

He sat beside me, his legs close enough to touch mine, I had to give him an A for effort. He knew my reasons for not having sex with him—I'd explained them the very first night he'd tried chatting me up—but he still couldn't help trying it on. Maybe it was all about the chase for him—and the more I refused, the more determined he became.

"That depends on your definition of fun," I glanced at him, "I've seen what we can do to humans. I'd hate to spoil that pretty body with a few ill-placed scars."

"Scars attract many ladies."

"If you're dead they won't."

He grunted, but the determined flash in his blue eyes suggested he was a long way from giving up just yet. "So what do you want to talk about?"

"Adrienne Jenson."

Something flickered in his eyes. Not recognition, but something else. Something that raised alarms deep inside. He might not have gray eyes or big cars, but he still had to be considered a suspect. He certainly knew more than he was telling. Or was I just being overly suspicious once again? "I'm gathering by the surname that you're from the same pack?"

"Yeah." I got out my phone and brought up Adrienne's picture. "You seen her around?"

He studied her for a moment, then nodded. "She did the tour here a week or so ago. I remember her hair." His gaze raised to mine. "It's such a pretty color in the sunlight."

I smiled at the compliment. "Was she with anyone?"

"I don't think so." He hesitated. "Why?"

"Because her mom has been pestering me to find her. She thinks she's run off with a man."

"She looks old enough to make her own decisions about who she wants to bed."

"She is, but this is a human man we're talking about."

He raised an eyebrow, amusement playing around his lips. "So the reluctance is a pack thing more than personal?"

"Both." I switched the phone image to the sketch Blake had sent. "This is the man her mom believes she's with."

Again that something went through his eyes. He knew the man, I was sure of it.

All he said was, "Pretty lousy drawing."

"But you know him, all the same?"

"Didn't say that."

Didn't refute it, either. "He's not in trouble. I just need to know if he's got any idea where Adrienne might be."

He didn't say anything for a moment, then shrugged. "I actually can't tell you much. I've seen him on the island a few times, helping out at the bar and such, but I've never really talked to him."

"Is he here today?"

"Don't know. You could try asking staff-management. They might tell you if he's around."

"Do you know his name?"

He frowned. "I think it's Jim. Jim Denton."

"I talked to Jim Denton last night. He looks nothing like this sketch."

Jared grinned. "Mom's obviously a lousy artist. Or Adrienne was telling lies for reasons of her own." He flung an arm around my shoulder, his fingers draping perilously close to my left breast. "Now that we've discovered I can't help you find your friend, how about we discuss a more interesting topic?"

"Like what?" I said wryly. "You, me, and bed?"

His fingers moved, lightly brushing my nipple, teasing it to life. "That sounds like a good place to start."

"Coffee is a good place to start," I pulled away from his arm and stood up. "I need to be wined and dined before I can get into any sort of sexual discussion."

"A reluctant werewolf," he muttered, his expression a mix of amusement and frustration. "Who'd have thought there was such a beast?"

I linked arms with him as we walked down the pier toward the small coffeehouse. "Just goes to prove you can't believe every rumor about us."

"And isn't it just my luck to find that one exception when I'm feeling as horny as hell."

I grinned. "I never said I didn't want to bed you. It's just the whole human thing that's the sticking point."

"Meaning if I keep trying, I may just wear down your defenses anyway?"

"You might."

"Excellent. Let's get down to coffee and cake then."

We did. And he did keep trying.

Rut he didn't get lucky.

Jared dropped the tour group back on the main island an hour later, and left me with a. promise to continue his seduction attempts during his lunch break. Grinning at his determination, I headed back to my little villa and rang my brother.

"Once again, she rings at an indecent hour," he said, by way of greeting.

I looked at my watch. "It's nearly lunchtime."

"Any hour before noon is an indecent hour after the night I've had."

"Self-inflicted pain garnishes no sympathy from me, bro."

"I'll remember that next time you want sympathy and coffee after a late night carousing."

I grinned. He'd feed me coffee no matter what, because he knew it was the only way to soothe the savage beast. Or at least shut her up. "You had a chance to look at the file yet?"

"No." He paused. "Why?"

"Because I've been asking around about Adrienne and the man she was supposedly seeing, and have hit an odd little wall." I told him about the two Jim Dentons. "It's rather odd to have two people with the same name, and yet no one seems to know or recognize the second man." No one except Jared, that was.

"You done a mind search?"

"Yeah, but without much luck. I found possible evidence of memory tampering on the older Jim, but I'm not yet skilled enough to undo the fudging."

"Memory tampering doesn't indicate foul play. It could just be a vampire not wanting her victim to remember their encounter."

Because drinking from unknowing or unwilling hosts was illegal in most states of Australia. Apparently Tasmania was a little more free and easy, allowing vamps to drink from whomever they pleased as long as they took minimum amounts. Which probably explained why human tourism to Tassie had fallen, and vamp tourism had increased.

"I couldn't see any evidence of bite marks."

"If it happened weeks ago, you wouldn't."

"Trust me, the fudging didn't feel like the work of a vamp."

"Then what did it feel like?"

"I don't know."

"Fat lot of good that'll do the investigation."

"This from the man lazing about in bed feeling sorry for himself." I paused, "Why isn't Liander there pampering you?"

"He had to go to work early. The apprentices are working on the goblin masks today, and he has to supervise."

Because they'd screwed up the goblin masks previously, no doubt. Those two weren't the sharpest pencils in the drawer from what I'd seen of them.

"So what are you going to do next?" he continued.

"I don't know. There's really nothing much more I can do here. I'll need to talk to the parents of the other victims and see if there's some other connector. There's something odd about it all."

"If you add, 'I feel it in my bones,' I'm going to come up there and hit you."

I grinned. "There's nothing wrong with that saying—aside from the fact you hate it."

"Mom used to say it," he said. "Usually right before you and I got a beating for something or other."

My smile faded. "I can't remember that."

"I suspect there's a lot you can't remember, Riley."

He was probably right. That time of my life was not a place where I wanted to linger. "I remember the bad stuff."

"Which just goes to show how screwed our definitions of bad are. There weren't many good times, you know."

"I know." I scrubbed a hand across my eyes, and fought the myriad of images that battered at the blocks I'd placed in their path years ago.

"Which is why I can't understand you helping him."

"I'm not. I'm helping Mother."

"I doubt he'd actually—"

"I don't. I think he's capable of any sort of violence imaginable." Especially if it meant getting what he wanted.

He sighed. "So, are you coming home?"

"If you and Liander don't mind me leaving a few days early."

"Mind? We were taking bets on it." I could almost see his grin coming down the line. "I win, by the way. I said the guilt of letting us down would keep you there until the last week."

"So what did you win?"

"A one night free pass to go anywhere and do anyone."

"You do that anyway."

"Hey," he said, sounding highly offended. "I've been a very good wolf since we had our discussion four weeks ago. I've only had one lover, and that was work related."

So why did he feel the need to break free now? If he was happy with Liander—and I knew he was—why fuck that up by dancing with other wolves? Especially since he'd agreed not to outside of work? "Why did Liander even agree to this bet?"

"Because he was sure you'd miss Kellen so much you'd be following him home two days after he left."

"Well, I do miss him."

"Maybe, but the telling point is, you haven't even contacted him."

"Because he wasn't home. He's been off on some business trip again."

"He has a cell phone, Riley."

"Oh, just shut up and stop nagging me," I said, more than a little crossly.

He chuckled. "Want me to meet you at the airport?"

"Someone had better. I can't afford a taxi after all the chocolate I've eaten on this trip."

"Text me the details and I'll be there."

"Will do, bro."

I hung up. The thought of going home had my hormones dancing, and I couldn't help the great big grin that plastered itself on my lips.

Still, before I packed, I headed down to reception and checked if Jim had left me a message. He had, and it was the answer I'd been expecting. No one remembered a man matching the description I'd given him.

Maybe it was just a scam. It wouldn't be the first time a. boy had lied about his name to get an easy lay. Although that didn't explain why Blake thought she'd bedded him, when no one up here could even remember seeing him. No one but Jared.

Once back at my villa, I got on with the serious business of packing. Jared appeared from nowhere, and helped carry my luggage to the little plane that would take me back to the mainland. I gave him a polite kiss good-bye, and used the moment to lower a shield and try to read his thoughts—only to hit what felt like a brick wall. Either he was mind-blind, or he had psychic shields as tough as any vampire.

Which raised the question, what might he be hiding? Anything? Or was I just being a suspicious bitch again? Probably, I thought wryly, as I boarded the plane.

Of course, getting a connecting flight back to Melbourne wasn't as easy, so it was a day later when I finally reached the Virgin terminal at Tullamarine airport. Thankfully, Blake's spirit or aura or whatever the hell that was didn't manage to find me during that time. Maybe being on a plane and on the move made me difficult to track.

I collected my bags and walked out of the terminal building, shivering as a blast of cold air hit my skin. I thought about dragging a sweater out of my bag, but honestly couldn't be bothered. I just wanted to get home. I stopped briefly and looked around for either Rhoan's or Liander's car, but found Kellen instead.

Pleasure shot through me, and I dropped my bags and ran into his arms. He laughed softly as he lifted me up and spun me around, then his lips found mine and he kissed me. Thoroughly and deeply, until my head was spinning and desire was pounding through my veins.

I sighed when he finished, then rested my forehead against his and stared into his bright, gold-flecked green eyes. "Missed you."

"And I you." He let my feet touch the ground but didn't release me.

I pressed myself against him, and wished there wasn't clothes between us. "So how come you're here?"

He smiled and kissed my nose. "Because two weeks away from you is far too long. I've already informed your brother that you're coming home with me."

A grin touched my lips. "Oh yeah? And why would that be?"

"Because I intend to ravish you senseless."

His words had my pulse skipping about dizzily. I restrained my excitement and tried to remain cool as I raised an eyebrow. "What if I don't want to be ravished?"

He collected my bags, then hooked my arm through his and led the way over to the taxi rank and parking areas. "Too bad. You have no choice in the matter."

"Not even if I'd rather a long and leisurely seduction?"

"Nope. Sorry." His grin was decidedly sexy and not in the least apologetic. "It's been two weeks since I've held you in my arms. Slow and leisurely just aren't possible."

"A man with no self-control." I shook my head in mock sorrow. "Such a shame."

"I've been with you for five minutes and I've only kissed you. How much more control do you want?"

I laughed and squeezed his arm, suddenly fiercely glad he'd come here to meet me. "Where's your Mercedes?"

"Didn't bring it." Mischief twitched his luscious lips. "I thought the returning princess deserved a ride worthy of her status. Hence, the limo."

He waved a hand to the long white limo lining the curb. Excitement began a triple-beat dance through my bloodstream. Making love in the backseat of a limo had always been something of a fantasy for me. In fact, any sort of making out that involved illicit locations was guaranteed to turn me on, but a limo was someplace I didn't get to be all too often. And the few times I had been in them had proven a frustrating experience. But then, I'd been with Quinn, and for an old vampire he was amazingly staid in his sexual tastes. Luckily for me, Kellen had proven to be a wolf more than willing to push and explore boundaries.

"And the driver?" I asked, voice several octaves lower than usual, thanks to the force of desire suddenly driving through me.

"Is very discreet. And the modesty screen between us is soundproof and one way. We can see him, but he can't see us."

"And do you plan a ravishment in the backseat of said limo?"

He dragged me closer and dropped a quick, fierce kiss on my lips. "I most certainly do. And with the side windows open so that everyone who passes us can see me taking you."

"Woohoo!"

He laughed, grabbed my hand, and raced me toward the car. The chauffer greeted our rush with politeness, but there was a twinkle in his gray eyes as he shoved my bags into the trunk. He obviously knew what was about to go down.

Me, quite literally.

I grinned as I seated myself comfortably on the plush leather seats. A bottle of Brown Brothers Orange Muscat & Flora—one of my favorite dessert wines—sat in a waiting ice bucket, with chilled glasses beside it.

"You don't have to get me drunk to have your wicked way with me," I said, as Kellen climbed into the car and the driver closed the door behind him.

"Oh, I know." He reached for the glasses and the wine. "But we've officially been an item for a whole six weeks. And as that's something of a record for me, I thought it worth a celebration."

"So all the rumors of you being a ladies' man are true?"

"Alas, yes. But all it took was the right woman to curb my straying ways." He poured the wine and handed me a glass, then raised his own. "To the right woman."

I clicked my glass against his, and said teasingly, "I'd love to say 'to the right man' but hey, I'm not entirely sure you're him yet."

He made a low sound deep in his throat, and pulled me toward him. "I am the right man. In fact, I intend to be the only man in your life." He kissed me hard, leaving me breathless, then added, "And for the next twelve hours, you are mine, and only mine."

Twelve hours? Oh my.

I took a sip of the wine that did little to curb the heat of excitement. Then, as the limo drove off smoothly, I leaned forward and tasted the same tangy sweetness on his lips.

"You do taste very nice."

"I'd taste even better if you were naked."

I raised an eyebrow, amusement teasing my lips. "And how does me being naked make you taste better?"

"Everything tastes better when there's nakedness involved."

"Such a male response."

"Well, I am a male."

I let my gaze roam down his lean, strong body. Wolves tended not to get muscle-bound—it just wasn't in our makeup—but that didn't mean the male of our species was in any way weedy. Just that they tended to be built like athletes rather than bodybuilders.

"It seems you are," I said, letting my gaze rest briefly, teasingly, on his lap. "However, I refuse to be the only one to get naked in this car."

Amusement touched his lips. "Then shall we remove our clothing?"

"Or remove each other's?"

"An even better idea."

He proceeded to strip me—slowly and deliciously—his fingers sliding so sensually across my skin, teasing and arousing. Then I did the same to him, allowing my hands to roam across the wealth of his chocolate-colored skin, reveling in the heat of it, the steel of muscles rippling underneath it every time he moved.

When we were finally both naked, I settled on his lap, enjoying the tease of closeness as I wrapped my arms around his neck and stared for several seconds into his beautiful green eyes. Then I kissed him, long and lingering.

"I want you," he said, after a while, his voice rough, urgent.

"But you can't have me. Not yet."

"Then what can I have?"

"Oh, this and that." I slid my rump down his legs until I was kneeling in front of him. Desire and anticipation swirled around me, so thick, so strong that it sent little droplets of perspiration skittering across my skin. I lightly ran my tongue across the base of his penis. His groan of pleasure was all the encouragement I needed to continue.

I licked my way up and down his shaft, occasionally taking in his balls, enjoying the tremble of pleasure that ran through his body, the way his cock leapt and throbbed with eagerness. I smiled and swirled my lips around the tip of him before taking him fully into my mouth.

Again he groaned—a sound thick with enjoyment—as I drew him deeper, sucking and tasting and teasing him until his movements became desperate and the salty taste of him began seeping into my mouth.

But I didn't let him cross that line. He made a sound thick with frustration when I pulled back, then his hands wrapped around my arms and he was pulling me up, pulling me close, as his mouth claimed mine.

As kisses went, it was pretty much meltdown material.

"Now it's your turn to ache," he whispered, after a while.

And he set about doing that very thing, touching and teasing, making me tremble and ache as I could never remember aching.

"Enough," I said, as he brought me to the edge for what seemed like the umpteenth time, only to back away again.

He laughed softly, his eyes sparking with so much desire and caring that something trembled deep inside. "Then what do you want now?"

"You," I said, and thrust down on him, claiming him in the most basic way possible.

He groaned and slid his hands to my hips, his grip almost bruising as he pressed me down harder. I echoed his groan, loving the way he felt inside.

I began to move and he was right there with me, kissing and caressing, driving me wilder with need. The deep down ache bloomed, becoming a kaleidoscope of sensations that washed pleasure through every corner of my mind, I thrust my head back, gasping for breath as the need for completion built and built. Only the air itself seemed to burn as fiercely as my skin.

Then the shuddering began and I grabbed his shoulders, pushing him deeper still, wanting to feel every inch of him through every inch of me. Pleasure exploded as his movements became faster, more urgent.

"Look at me," he growled.

I opened my eyes and met his gaze, and again something quivered deep inside. Desire and passion and something else—something that seemed a whole lot like possession—seared those depths, stirring me in ways I didn't think possible.

"You are mine," he said, and his hoarse voice seemed to echo through every fiber of my being.

Yes, I thought. Oh God, yes.

And then all thought evaporated as the passion between us exploded and I was quivering, trembling, whimpering, as his warmth spilled into me.

Sated, I collapsed against him, sucking in his spicy, sweaty scent with every intake of breath, feeling it fill me, consume me, as his body had consumed me. Somehow, it seemed so right. He wrapped his arms around me, holding on tight, and for one brief moment, I had that oh so glorious sensation of belonging.

It was in the middle of that one perfect moment that the phone rang.