by Jory Strong
Chapter One
The wolf lurked in the shadows of Syndelle Coronado's mind, looking out into the Las Vegas night through eyes as blue as a summer sky. Magic stirred, along with the elusive promise of a mate. Or rather, two mates.
It was almost time, the magic whispered, and the wolf held that knowledge close, though anticipation rippled through it, a brush along Syndelle's spine as she turned from the hotel window and moved toward the door, unable to resist the lure of the unknown human's pain, unable to deny aid to the woman who'd somehow breached her shields and whose cry had reached her thoughts.
A trickle of fear and worry scurried through Syndelle when she stepped into the dim hallway. Only once before had she defied her parents' will and ventured out unguarded. And now she was both unguarded and alone.
But not without defenses, the wolf said, its body radiating a subtle excitement as its senses flared out, expanding to include odors and sounds that no human could experience.
Syndelle smiled, taking comfort in the wolf's presence as she always had, the fear easing, the worry remaining. She was the seventh child in her mother's Angelini bonding with a vampire and a werewolf, but she was only their second daughter. If something happened to her. . . the worry pressed down on her as she thought of her parents' anguish.
They'd never gotten over the kidnapping of their firstborn daughter, Jovina. And even after all of these years, not knowing what happened to their child could still bring tears to her mother's eyes and send Riesen, her werewolf mate, tearing through the forest as if he could outrun the pain, while Sabin, her mother's vampire mate, went to ground in order to avoid crossing the line from hunter to hunted-from striking out in rage and killing without the benefit of a council-ordered death sentence.
Syndelle shivered. The vampire was the ultimate predator-able to prey on both the mind and the body. So powerful that long ago they'd been banished to the night while other supernaturals had been allowed to remain in the daylight. So terrifying that the Angelini had been created to hunt them in an ancient, primitive world with few rules and where magic governed the land. And though the days of the wild magic were gone, the Angelini and their other-race mates still meted out justice, their role expanding to include not only rogue vampires, but any supernatural who broke the laws that they had all agreed upon when it came to dealing with each other and with the humans.
Syndelle smoothed a finger over the bare spot on her neck. She was the first of the ancient Coronado bloodline to forsake the tattoo of an Angelini hunter. But she was not a killer-even when the death was sanctioned and justified.
The psychic link to the girl whose physical pain called to Syndelle expanded, pushing Syndelle into motion, sending her out into the night, though she paused several blocks away from the hotel, thinking that she should have left a note for Itai, her youngest brother, and the one who was supposed to be guarding her until she could be delivered to Riesen's pack for the Howl. The wolf stirred, its body growing momentarily heavy with thoughts of the Howl, with the possibility that the Angelini magic might choose a mate from among the werewolves who would be entrusted with Syndelle's safety while Itai joined their parents and brothers.
But it was too late now. She couldn't take the time to return to the room. If the unknown woman passed out, she might not be able to locate her.
Syndelle forced the guilt away. Itai had the same heightened senses she did, though unlike her, he had also inherited the ability to shift into a wolf. He would know that no one had entered her room, and once he discovered that she was missing, he would make short work of tracking her.
She grimaced slightly. Of course, there would be hell to pay then. First from him, and then from their parents-though perhaps he wouldn't inform them. Itai was a law unto himself in so many ways-like all of the Angelini. Syndelle smiled, for once including herself as a small thrill of independence swept through her.
Her brother would probably hustle her away from Las Vegas and right into the protective custody of Riesen's old pack. That was the only reason she was here now, so that Itai could take her there. Never before had she been with one of her family members while they were hunting. But there was an unprecedented gathering of the Angelini and their parents hadn't wanted her in the presence of so many Angelini or the vampires some of them had taken for mates. It wasn't safe. There were those among the Angelini who would want her dead for what she was, for what she would ultimately mean for them.
Syndelle's heart raced along with her feet as she hurried past the rough hotels and bars, moving into a darkened industrial section, the cry of pain getting louder the closer she got, drawing her to the one she sought.
The wolf caught the scent first, slowing Syndelle so she didn't stumble over the woman who was covered in garbage-lying in it, as though she'd crawled out of the dumpster next to her. Syndelle's heart lurched at the sight. No, not a woman-a girl, only barely eighteen, if that.
Syndelle knelt and pushed the trash off the girl's naked body. The girl cringed away from her, whimpering in pain. Horror trapping the words of comfort in Syndelle's throat. Across the girl's stomach someone had carved the word whore. But it was the girl's face that plummeted Syndelle's heart into despair. Only vampire blood or years of treatment could ever make the face right again. It was a mass of broken bones and torn flesh.
She slipped her dark jacket off and gently covered the girl's nakedness. There were wards she could weave that would help with the pain, but in this city of dark powers, they would be a beacon drawing attention to not only the girl, but to her. Still, she hesitated, not wanting to leave the girl in the dark alley without any protection or aid. Quickly, before she could talk herself out of it, Syndelle traced a small ward over the girl. For a second it hovered, a golden pattern unseen to human eyes, and then it settled into place. "I won't be gone long. I'm going to get help. "
The girl whimpered and reached for Syndelle, then cried out when her hand touched Syndelle's. A fresh wave of horror rolled through Syndelle at the sight of the distorted, twisted, broken fingers on the girl's hand.
"I'll be right back," Syndelle promised, wanting to touch the girl, to offer comfort, but afraid that if she did so, the only thing she'd bring would be more pain.
"No police. No police. Please! Go to Bangers. " The girl's voice was so soft that even with her acute hearing, Syndelle strained to catch her words. "Bartender. Tell him. . . " The girl's cough spattered a small amount of fresh blood on an already bloody face. "Tell him. One of Daddy's girls. "
"I'll be right back," Syndelle promised, her stomach aching at the thought of leaving the girl. But there was nothing else she could do.
She rose and quickly backtracked. In her mind's eye she easily pictured all of the places she'd passed. Bangers had been the last one. Uneasiness moved through Syndelle as she brought the image of the strip club into focus.
It wasn't the naked bodies that caused anxiety to curl through her like smoke. It was impossible to be related to werewolves and remain shy at the sight of flesh. It was the roughness of the crowd that made her anxious.
Restless, violent energy resonated from the men who had been trapped in the span of her memory as she'd passed Bangers. And for the first time since leaving the hotel, she welcomed the thought of encountering her brother. He hadn't shared the nature of his hunt with her, but she knew that one of the reasons he'd chosen the dark, unpleasant hotel was because it was near this group of seedy bars and strip clubs. If she encountered the prey he was seeking. . .
Whistles and catcalls greeted Syndelle as she approached the club. She forced a calm she didn't feel into her body. The predators who roamed here would only be more dangerous if they sensed her fear.
Even if she wasn't a lone woman enter
ing a strip club, even if she didn't appear delicate, her sky-blue eyes a startling contrast against long raven-black hair, Syndelle knew that she would draw their attention. It was inevitable-a blessing and a curse of her heritage. She'd been created to hunt among humans, to attract and bespell them, to use them even as it was her birth-duty to guard the border between their world and hers.
Flesh of one father's flesh.
Blood of the other father's blood.
Bound together by Angelini magic to create the children who would continue the legacy.
She was one of those children.
* * * * *
As soon as Rafael Fiero saw the woman, he knew he was doomed to another night of suffering for his past sins. Fuck.
Yeah, that's what he'd do all night-until he was so desperate to come that he'd be willing to sell his soul to the devil for some relief.
Of course, there was a small problem with that. The devil wanted more than just his soul. And Rafael wasn't ready to yield-not yet anyway, though the longer he was under this particular curse the closer he came to being willing. It'd be amusing if it were happening to someone else-but it was damn painful since it was happening to him.
He brought his beer bottle to his lips and took a long drink as he imagined fucking the woman until she was limp in his arms, exhausted from being with a man who could give her orgasm after orgasm but never come himself.
His curse. His punishment.
The price he paid for his arrogance and stupidity.
Fucking vampire politics.
He took another long swallow.
But at least he had his life. Such as it was.
Rafael shifted, trying to take some of the pressure off his cock without doing something so crass as grabbing himself. Not that anyone would notice in this dark pit of a club, but he liked to think that being a vampire companion hadn't reduced him to being totally classless.
The woman made her way to the bar and his cock pulsed, pressing against the front of his jeans in rigid demand. The scent of springtime flowers reached him and for a split second he was thrown back into the past, trapped in a fleeting childhood memory of standing among green grass and bright flowers while the sun warmed him with the promise that the nightmare of his life could be held at bay.
Rafael's cock pulsed again, spilling warmth over its head and drawing him back to the present as the woman's voice reached down, stroking his balls until they were tight and hard against his body, commanding his attention until her words penetrated his consciousness.
"She begged me not to call the police. She said that I should tell you she was one of Daddy's girls. "
The bartender's eyes instantly moved along the row of patrons within speaking distance and settled on Rafael. "Escort her to Big Daddy's table, Rafe, pronto. "
Out of habit, Rafael's first impulse was to refuse the order. He answered only to the vampire who had made him a companion.
But there was no denying the woman's soft, pleading look, the blue eyes that made his soul want to drown in them. And when he moved closer, the springtime smell of her unleashed a primal urge to take her, to push her onto the bar and mount her. His cock pulsed, harder this time, sending another wash of wet heat over its head as his body tightened in reaction to the assault on his senses.
