Morning light streamed in, glinting off the tools lined up on Jodi’s workbench. The walls in here were covered in beautiful pieces—little instances of people’s lives that would live on for as long as the ink and paper lasted. Memories that could not be erased.
Hope’s friend, roommate, and coworker ran her blade down the mat, making a perfect cut. “I call ’em like I see’em. No one’s going to want their picture taken by a woman who can’t even keep her eyes open. You should call it quits and take a nap.”
“I only have one more appointment today. I’ll manage.”
Jodi grinned, waggling her pale eyebrows. “So, where were you last night? Or should I say this morning?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“Try me.”
Hope considered blurting out the truth. Sadly, she couldn’t think of a way to say it without using the word vampire, so she resisted the urge. “I met this guy and lost track of time.”
“Uh-huh,” said Jodi, her tone disbelieving. “One has a tendency to lose track of time when one is macking on some hot guy. He was hot, right?”
Logan’s face flashed in her mind, all perfect symmetry and stark angles. Just the thought had her fingers itching for her camera. She could take a great photo of him. Except she wasn’t sure vampires could even be photographed. Or that he was even real.
It had taken all morning, but she had convinced herself that last night’s events were nothing more than a bizarre dream. There was no horrible monster. No beautiful Logan. All those events were simply something her mind had constructed to combat her fear of going near the Tyler building where she’d been found a decade ago.
“Hello. Hope. Are you in there?” asked Jodi, waving her hand in front of Hope’s face. The large silver heart ring she wore caught the morning light and left little spots floating in Hope’s vision.
“Sorry. I’m just tired.”
Jodi took Hope by the arm and led her out of the workroom toward the stairway that led to their shared apartment upstairs. “Go to bed, girl. I’ll wake you up as soon as your one o’clock gets here.”
Maybe she was right. Maybe a nap would clear her head and rid her of the last remnants of a man who couldn’t possibly exist.
Madoc stepped into Joseph’s office unannounced. His black hair was a mess, as if he’d just gotten out of bed. “There’s a nak*d man at the front gate. He’s a Slayer.”
Shock raced through Joseph, silencing him for a moment. Why would their enemy be at the gate? Was it some kind of trick? Custom dictated that a party offering to negotiate would show up nak*d as proof they were unarmed, but after so many years of the stagnant war between them, why would the Slayers want to negotiate anything? “What does he want?”
“He asked to talk to you. Do I let him in or do I kill him?” Madoc’s blunt features were expressionless, as if he truly didn’t care which of those alternatives Joseph picked.
“Is he alone?”
“No. There are some men sitting in their vehicles at the main road. The only person at his side is one very pissed-off woman.”
A woman? If one of the Slayers had found a female Theronai, would they have stuck to the old laws and brought her here? It wasn’t likely, but it was possible, and with all the women popping up lately, Joseph refused to take any chances. “Let him and the woman in, but only them. Make them walk. No vehicles past the gate. Alert the men to be ready for trouble. Meet me at the front doors.”
Madoc nodded and left.
Joseph combed his fingers through his hair and straightened his clothes. It wouldn’t do his people any good to show up looking like the insomniac he was.
He hurried from his office, his mind spinning with possibilities. By the time he wound his way through the building, a dozen men were waiting for him at the front doors. They were all armed and their faces were grim.
He addressed them, looking each one in the eyes. “I don’t want any trouble. Keep your swords sheathed unless I order otherwise. If this is a trick, we’ll make sure it’s the last of its kind.”
Joseph was satisfied they’d listen. For now. He stepped forward and opened the wide double doors.
The man standing there was Andreas Phelan and he was, indeed, nak*d. He was nearly as tall as Joseph, with brown hair and tawny eyes. The tops of his ears were slightly pointed, proof that the Slayer blood in him was strong. His body had the sleek, high-performance muscles of an athlete. Joseph had met him once before when he’d had to sentence one of his own men to death. He truly hoped these circumstances were more cheerful.
Judging by the angry, thrashing woman over his shoulder, this visit would be interesting if nothing else.
Andreas set her down, holding her steady until she gained her balance. She had been wrapped tightly in a sheet and gagged with a strip of tape over her mouth. Her sunny blond hair was a tangled mess. Her face was red, and her eyes burned a pale golden yellow that promised retribution.
“Thank you for receiving us,” he said, inclining his head briefly at Joseph. “This is my sister, Lyka, who has promised to behave.”
The last part had clearly been said as a warning to his sister.
“Why are you here?”
Andreas lifted his hands away from his body and turned in a slow circle. “As you can see I’m unarmed. Lyka is as well, though I understand if you would like to remove the sheet and verify that for yourself.”
She glared at him and a furious yell filtered through her gag.
“I don’t dare arm her when she’s this angry at me,” said Andreas.
Joseph looked at Madoc. “Can you ask Nika to come down and check her for weapons?”
Madoc lifted his phone from his belt and made the call.
“I’ll do it,” offered Morgan Valens.
Joseph gave him a hard stare before he realized it was jealousy that had caused it. He didn’t want any of the men looking at her nak*d body, though he guessed it was simply a reaction to her vulnerability. “No. You won’t.”
“I request that we be allowed into your home so that we can talk,” said Andreas.
“What about?”
“A truce between our people,” said Andreas.
Truce? Joseph felt the men behind him shift uncomfortably, and he himself scanned the area, looking for signs of a trap.
Andreas’s mouth tightened in irritation. “I understand that you’re skeptical, but I swear to you this is no trick. Do you really think I’d bring my sister along if I’d intended to attack?”
“She’s gagged. Perhaps she’s not your sister at all.”
Andreas reached over to the woman and carefully worked the corner of the tape up. “Ready?” he asked, with a hint of apology in his tone.
She grunted, her nostrils flaring.
The Slayer ripped the tape free, wincing as he did so, as if the act hurt him, too. He pulled a wad of cloth from her mouth and nearly had his fingers bitten for his effort.
“You bastard!” she shouted. “It was bad enough you had to drag me here, but throwing me over your shoulder and making me look at your nak*d ass was going over the line. Do you want me to vomit?”
“You refused to come willingly,” said Andreas in a weary tone, as if it was an old argument.
“This is a fool’s errand. The Theronai will never agree to a truce. Their thirst for vengeance is too great. You’ve signed our death warrants.”
Joseph held up his hands to stop her tirade. “Hold on a minute. No one is killing anyone yet. Tell me who you are.”
“Lyka Phelan.”
“My sister,” said Andreas.
“Half sister,” she corrected.
Nika walked up to the group. She’d gained a bit of weight over the last couple of weeks, filling out the gaunt hollows under her cheeks and giving her pale skin a bit of color. Her white hair hung straight, swaying about her chin to frame her face. Her bright blue eyes were on Madoc, and though she said no words aloud, Joseph was sure she’d asked him what this was all about.
The mental link the pair had was beyond anything Joseph had ever witnessed. They’d been together for only a couple of weeks, and in that time, they’d become a well-oiled killing machine. Madoc and Nika could now take down an entire nest by themselves, though it left a hell of a mess behind.
Nika went to the woman, reached up, and placed her hand on her head. Lyka flinched, as if Nika’s hand was cold.
Nika turned to Joseph. “She has no weapons, but wishes she had one, so she could use it on this man.” She pointed to Andreas.
Joseph looked at the Slayer. “Just like you said.”
“May we come inside?” Andreas asked.
What the hell. It wasn’t like a nak*d Slayer and his sister showed up on their doorstep every day. “We’ll go to one of the cabins in back. We had a little incident with some explosives last year, so I’m a bit cautious.”
“Suits me,” said Andreas. “We’re playing by the rules, all nice and civilized. Right, Lyka?”
Lyka growled at her brother.
“Someone fetch this man some pants,” ordered Joseph.
“I’d appreciate something to wear, too,” said Lyka.
The fact that she was nak*d under that sheet was not lost on Joseph. He found himself staring, trying to discern her shape. All he got was caterpillar.
“I’ll find her something of Andra’s that will fit,” offered Nika. “They’re about the same size.”
Andreas picked up his sister in his arms and said, “Lead the way.”
Joseph walked around Dabyr to one of the vacant cabins near the lake. Four of his men guarded his back, but he’d dismissed the others, knowing that there was a lot of bad blood between the two races.
It had been years since the last confrontation, but Theronai lived a long time, and he didn’t know any of his men who hadn’t lost someone due to violence initiated by the Slayers.
As leader, he had to put aside his own prejudices and focus on the present. He wouldn’t think about the friends he’d lost at the hands of the Slayers. At least not right now.
If things turned ugly . . .
Joseph opened the door and flipped on the light. This cabin had been prepared for disuse, and the furniture was covered with white drop cloths. He motioned toward a small couch for his guests to sit.
Andreas set his sister down and then donned the pair of borrowed jeans, unselfconscious about his nudity. Lyka was still wrapped up in the sheet, and Joseph was keenly aware of hers.
“Mind if I get dressed?” she asked Joseph, her tone caustic and belligerent.
Joseph nodded his head toward the small bathroom behind him. “Feel free. Morgan, untape her.”
The Theronai flashed a bright smile. “My pleasure.”
Lyka lifted her chin to look up at him. “I may be unarmed, but that doesn’t mean I won’t find a way to hurt you.”
Morgan laughed.
“Behave, Lyka,” scolded her brother. “Show some honor.”
“If he has his way, I’ll be showing a hell of a lot more than honor. I’d really rather not put myself on display to our enemy.”