“Of course. In our worlds, we can never be too careful.”
“True. So, what’s this problem you were referring to? Grant simply said he would let you explain.”
He got right to the point. “Have you or your coven members noticed a surge in the numbers of rogue vampires?”
“Not really,” he said slowly, thoughtfully. “But we’re pretty isolated here in the Smoky Mountains. Care to fill me in?”
“We’ve had attacks cropping up around the country, and the number and frequency of them are becoming alarming. Not to mention a special ability they seem to have developed—they’re now able to attack during the day.”
“The hell you say.” The prince blew out a breath. “How?”
“I don’t know, but I think our two groups need to meet in person. What affects my team and the human population will eventually get to your coven. If we work together, we might be able to stop this thing before it reaches the point of no return.”
“Agreed. I’ll meet with my men and call you back with some possible dates. Will that work?”
“Yes, and thank you.”
“No need to thank me. A problem with rogues affects all of us. Talk to you soon.”
After they ended the call, Nick sat with his elbows on his desk, lost in thought. Maybe they could find the answer to the rogue issue together, before it was too late.
Before he could fret on the matter further, a familiar buzz started in his head. His skin prickled and his eyesight dimmed, the hallmark of a coming vision.
In the mist, there stood a figure. Draped in darkness, it moved toward him with grace, and surprisingly, he got no sense of fear. No death.
The figure remained shrouded, but the form was slight. A female. She beckoned to him, and where he might have felt trepidation . . .
Joy. There was nothing but pure joy at her presence, and his heart picked up speed, pounding in excitement. He opened his mouth to ask her name, why she was there—
And he was jolted back to reality with sudden force.
“Who are you?” he whispered, sitting back in his chair.
He hoped and prayed he lived long enough to learn the answer.
Selene sat on her bunk with her back against the wall, arms encircling her drawn-up knees. If someone didn’t come soon, she was going to lose her freaking mind.
No TV, no books, no window to see outside. Not even the tick of a clock. Nothing to do but watch the four walls and listen to the disturbing noises coming from another cell along the corridor.
All night, she’d heard growling, snarling, and terrible howling. All coming from a single creature nearby. Her nose scented another wolf shifter, and she wondered what he’d done to deserve the maddening boredom of this prison.
“Hey!” she called. “Is anybody there? Can you hear me?”
The howling stopped, but only for a few moments. Soon it started up again, and she banged the back of her head against the steel panel in frustration.
A flash of blue light startled her, and she bolted upright on her bunk, pulse tripping. When the light faded, a man was standing inside the cell near the door.
A man who looked like a rock star. He had artfully mussed, layered hair that fell to his shoulders and wore black guyliner, which set off amazing green eyes. He was dressed all in black, from his T-shirt to a leather duster that fell to his ankles, to the shitkickers on his feet. Even his fingernails were like polished onyx.
He looked young, perhaps early twenties—but his eyes were ancient.
She hid a shiver. Masking the hammering of her heart, she fixed a look of amusement on her face. “If you’re looking for the Mötley Crüe audition, you’re in the wrong state altogether.”
One corner of his lush mouth turned up. “Really? Damn. Guess I’ll just have to stay here and fight vampires.”
She frowned. “Vampires?”
“Long story.”
“It seems I have time.”
He shrugged. “We’re having a bit of a rogue problem lately. The assholes are springing up everywhere in the country when there shouldn’t be that many.”
“I’ve not seen any rogues where I’m from.”
“Good to know.”
She studied him, inhaled a whiff. “You’re not a wolf.”
“Panther. I’m also a Sorcerer and a Necromancer.”
She stared at him, fascinated in spite of herself. “I’ve never met any one of those things, much less all three.”
“Well, ain’t it your lucky day?” He winked.
“Believe me, this day has nowhere to go but up.” She paused, deciding she was starting to like this man. “I’m Selene Westfall.”
“Nick’s daughter. Yeah, word got around.”
“I can imagine.”
“I’m Kalen Black.”
“What are you doing here, Kalen, besides checking out the new resident of Block R?”
“The medical team is on their way down to fetch you for some testing. I’m here to make sure everything runs smoothly.”
“As insurance.”
“You could say that.”
“Why would they send you and not Zander? I assume you heard about our mating, too.”
He snorted. “Who hasn’t? You sure know how to make a grand entrance. Good job.”
“Funny.” She shot him a sour look.
“I thought so.” Pushing away from the wall, he stepped right up to her bunk, his expression growing serious. “To answer your question, Zan’s been ordered to stay away for now. We may have to do something he doesn’t like—say, restrain you—and the instinct to protect his mate could take over. This is an unstable time for both of you, especially given the way your bonding went down and the fact that your wolves are probably crawling out of your skins with the need to get to each other.”
That was true, unfortunately, and she flushed just thinking about how badly she wanted the black wolf. “Good point.”
“And because my mate is one of the doctors, I’m here specifically to protect her from you. If you even think of hurting her, or anyone else, I’ll turn you into a slug and get out my salt shaker.” The wicked gleam in his eyes told her the man wasn’t kidding.
Before she could reassure him that her problem was only with Nick, voices and footsteps approached from down the hallway. Kalen moved off to the side as two female doctors wearing lab coats and a male nurse wearing SpongeBob scrubs stepped inside. He didn’t go far, though. When the Sorcerer kissed a pretty woman with curly brunette hair and then hovered close, Selene saw why.
Kalen’s mate was hugely pregnant. She was radiant, too, and Selene felt a twinge of longing. Forcing her attention from the happy couple, she locked eyes with the other doctor. The woman had a short cap of dark hair, shorter than Selene’s own, and though she was petite, she had a bearing and coolness that suggested anyone who gave her a hassle would be sorry.
“I’m Dr. Melina Mallory,” she said, then indicated the other two. “That’s Dr. Mackenzie Grant and our nurse, Noah Brooks.”
“Hello. I’m—”
“We know who you are,” Dr. Mallory said curtly.
So much for pleasantries.
“We’re going to escort you to the infirmary, where we’ll give you a general physical and then visit with you a bit before we conduct our psychological evaluation.”
“To determine if you’ve got a crazy on your hands.”
“Well, you tried to kill a shifter five times your age and twice your size, so you’ll forgive our caution where your sanity is concerned.”
“Ooh, ouch. I guess this means we can’t be best friends.”
The doctor studied her for a good, long moment, as though she were observing some sort of insect. She didn’t have to say a thing to make Selene feel two feet tall. Then the woman smiled, and the expression on her small, elfin face wasn’t exactly friendly.