A blur of figure slammed at the approaching vampire, and soon shifter and vampire were wrestling again. She had no doubt the others weren’t far behind.

  This time, it was Celine who pulled the boy with her, ignoring his protest and want to join in on the fight. She managed to get him in the container van, the ample light of the open door confirming that it was empty. She hobbled in after, watching as he made sure the front doors were locked before she closed the back one and locked it from the inside. Darkness surrounded them now, more ominous than when she’d been blindfolded because of the sounds coming from outside: muffled screams, growls, and hisses, all rolled into one and making her hyperaware this could end either way.

  Her kidnapper had become her defender, but he was still her kidnapper. He was battling vampires intent on either taking her or killing her…and she had an erratic shifter boy in her little hiding spot with her, his stance braced and ready to fight.

  Her ears cocked as the sounds outside intensified, and her hand spread over her round belly to soothe it. Ripping sounds, someone screaming in pain.

  Then—

  The driver's door was yanked open.

  Chapter 5

  This was a disaster, and it was steadily turning into a catastrophe. Before it could cross that thin line, Hunter was already diving into the driver’s seat—a bad idea of epic proportions, especially with the sharp nails still yanking at his feet. But he kicked it back, then slammed the door shut just as the vampire slammed against it. The glass held. Another vampire crawled and slammed on the front, powerful punches punctuated with angry hisses. That glass held, too. With one last growl, Hunter turned the engine on.

  Then he floored the pedal and the van roared out of there.

  The vampires fell off, and a crunching sound came when a wheel flattened one of them. Dimly, part of him was aware not just of his outside surroundings, but of the van's interior—particularly, the woman who was heavily pregnant and should not be in a situation like this. He cursed inwardly, cursed his boss for withholding details that shouldn't have been withheld. But there was nothing to do about it now until they got out of there.

  And he was getting them out of there, even if it was the last thing he did.

  “Hold on tight. Max, do me a favor. Make sure Celine doesn’t fall and that her stomach's protected. This is going to be a bumpy ride.”

  No response, but the lack of protest told him the boy understood all too well about bumpy rides. The rearview mirror helped, too, allowing him glimpses of the figures in the darkness behind him. His ears were cocked for sounds outside, trying to detect the faintest ones. Nothing, and the warehouse path gave way to a bigger street, New York just as busy as ever.

  He floored it until they were zipping right past the neighborhood. He dialed a number.

  “Kit?”

  “Keep driving. We’ve got the space you’ve requested ready. Fitzpatrick's gonna be there waiting for you.”

  “Good. Thanks,” was his short response before he ended the call. It was a small dose of relief, but he didn’t let his guard down as he kept going, the minutes passing by in a blur.

  Behind him, he could hear whispers between the two parties and wondered what they were talking about. That curiosity was sated when the woman cleared her throat.

  “Where are you taking us?”

  “Like I said, somewhere safe,” he replied promptly.

  “You can just drop us off on the sidewalk, you know, and we’ll be on our way,” she suggested casually. He almost burst into laughter. At least her fighting spirit was still intact.

  “Nah, I won’t be doing that. Those bastards? They’ll be tracking you down in no time. Ask Max here…which, by the way, kid, we still need to talk about.”

  The boy remained silent.

  “Fine," she muttered. "What did they want from me?”

  “Beats the hell out of me, Miss Peach.”

  “Celine, since we seem to be on a close basis now,” she shot back, tone dripping with haughtiness. “And you are?”

  “Hunter Solis.”

  “What do you want from me, Hunter?”

  “I don’t know, but my boss does. Don’t worry. He’s not like them. Whatever he wants from you, he won’t kill you for it.”

  At least, he hoped so.

  At first, he thought the gasp behind him was meant for the boss comment. Then he heard her breathing heavily, and alarm shot up.

  “Celine?”

  “Cramps,” she gasped out. “But I’ll be fine.”

  Alarm shifted to worry. “Cramps as in…are you in labor?”

  It was Max who replied, voice oddly protective. “She's not in labor. I’ve seen cases like this. Just stress. She needs to rest.”

  Worry shifted to guilt, but Hunter swallowed it in. “Rest, then. I’ll wake you up when we’re where we need to be.”

  Silence. That silence reverberated in the space as he kept driving, eyes focused outside, senses never turning off. They flew past the traffic, flew past Queens until the familiar streets of Brooklyn came into sight. The day flew by, too, and night would soon bring more vampires out on the streets would increase the amount of vampires tracking them. But it didn’t matter, because Hunter was now where he needed to be, rolling the van inside a garage in what looked like an abandoned building. He didn’t pause as a soft tap came from the passenger door, where Ovie—Oliver Fitzpatrick—popped his head in right after Hunter unlocked it, tossing a new set of clothes over.

  He didn’t pause in putting his mask on as smoke filled the van, and a dull thud sounded from behind, indicating the two passengers’ fall into unconsciousness. Ovie dove right in, shimmying to the back and opening the door there easily.

  This time, Hunter finally spoke.

  “Get the boy to the prison for interrogation. I’ll handle the woman.”

  It was when they were nearing the other side—his true home—that he finally allowed his shoulders to relax, though he was still tense for another reason. Hunter reined that in as he walked beside Ovie and carried Celine in: from the container van to deeper inside the building, where broken furniture dotted the space of emptiness. When they got to what would’ve been the living room area, he and Ovie stopped by the fireplace, where the other man nodded. Taking that as his signal, Hunter stepped forward and into the fireplace, which swallowed him whole.

  Now, now he was truly home, and landing on the other side had never been as comforting as it was at this very second.

  Of course, comfort didn’t mean passing this one on, as he still thought of it as his responsibility. Sorting his priorities in his head, he headed straight for the bedroom area, where Levi Stone waited for him and helped him put the unconscious woman to bed. The male shifter guard began to work his skills in assessing, and relief poured out of Hunter when Levi deemed Celine to be fine. As some discussions were made, Levi’s hair didn’t miss Hunter’s attention: brownish red, the color description of Celine’s file, and the hair color she should’ve had.

  Speaking of file…

  “Are you sure she’s going to be fine?”

  “I’ll monitor her closely. But for now, she’s in the clear.”

  Good.

  Hunter took some time to study the dark bags under her eyes, shadows that were caused by what he’d done—what those vampires had done. Then, understanding he was wasting time, he stormed out of there and marched the hallways, intent on finding one person and hellbent on getting answers.

  He found the person ten minutes later, strolling from the opposite side and clearly headed towards where Hunter had come from. Before the man could pass, Hunter stood in his way, planting his feet firmly and growling.

  “You didn’t tell me she was pregnant.”

  “Hello to you, too,” was the soft, pleasant response. Edmund Masters looked calm, composed, and every bit the collected and refined boss lord he was. Which he was, considering he was a legit English lord.

  And it was irking Hunter so much right now.

  “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “And I was about to. I didn’t tell you because it wasn’t relevant to your mission.”

  His hands fisted as he resisted the urge to punch him. Callous bastard. “Yes, it was. I don’t harm babies. What do you need from her?”

  “Ironically enough, I need her baby along with her—alive, of course, so don’t look at me like that.” Edmund shrugged. “You did a fine job.”

  “And why do you need a damn human and her baby?”

  The answer…he wasn’t ready for the answer.

  “Because that human’s baby isn’t human.”

  Hunter jerked back. “What?”

  “Those vampires after her? They’re more closely connected than you think.”

  Now Hunter's eyes were bugging out. “But vampires can’t impregnate…”

  “Exactly. And that’s why we need her here for now. Can you imagine if they find out the reason for her pregnancy and try to replicate it?”

  Yes, Hunter could, and the results were worthy of nightmares. They already had too many vampire clans hiding here on earth, hiding in their realms and plotting the demise of every other clan there was. They didn’t need more.

  The information overload was getting to him, and his head was now throbbing. “Were those vampires…?”

  “I don’t know if it was from their clan, that’s why I need her awake and talking. But we’ll let her rest for now. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to check on Levi and the woman.” Edmund gave him a pointed look. “Check on your prisoner. That boy belongs to a clan, and we need to know which enemy we are dealing with.”

  Hunter watched as his boss started walking again. He didn’t follow. Whatever comfort he felt was gone now, the truth of this whole stint not sitting well with him at all.

  Every corner he turned, luxury met his gaze—the crystal chandeliers, the marble floors, the art pieces that Edmund had collected over the years. A lot needed renovation, but the good amount of maintenance was obvious. Despite Edmund’s shortcomings, there was no denying the man treated his men with the same care.

  Hunter barely paid attention to it all as the wheels of his mind turned, question after question piling up until everything was muddled.

  Who got Celine pregnant? How could a vampire get her pregnant?

  Did she know?

  Her reaction to the sight of the warehouse vampires told him differently. It didn’t make sense, but also…it did.

  Vampires were very wily creatures, after all.

  The padded footsteps ahead had him looking up, he tensed when he saw Ovie approaching him. The other man didn’t waste time, already speaking in his faint Irish lilt.

  “I’ve gotten as much information from the boy as I can, which isn’t much. He’s a lone shifter, and he was looking to join a clan when they searched him out. That was his initiation. He doesn’t even know what they look like.”

  Because interrogating was Ovie’s expertise, Hunter took his word on it and nodded. Ovie wouldn’t relay information that wasn’t true.

  “He mentioned something about those boys being a setup,” the man continued. “Also, apparently, he’s sorry. And one more thing.”

  “What?”

  “He’s in cycle now and will be shifting soon.”

  Shit. That meant the boy was out of his league here.

  And he needed help.

  Hunter nodded and started walking again, and Ovie didn’t stop him as they entered the rectangular block of space where all the prison cells were located. A small head whipped up, body vibrating as the boy tried to fight off the shudders.

  “When did you find out you were a shifter?”

  “Six months ago,” was the response, voice trembling.

  Double shit.

  “Come with me. You need to shift right now, or you’ll die. I’ll take you to a bigger space.”

  The boy eyed him warily but seemed to realize he was speaking the truth—probably knew it from experience, too. Right now, Hunter knew Max was feeling excruciating pain, the kind that would make one want to claw their bodies out of their skin. So he took the boy by the shoulder, ignoring the jerk that turned into resignation. He dragged the boy along, quietly sauntering the halls until Ovie fell in the background and it was just the two of them.

  To Max’s credit, he kept it in and rode the pain, even while his body was close to violently shaking from the effort. Harsh, labored breaths filled the air as they burst out of the mansion’s back door, where Hunter led Max to a wide field with few trees. Up ahead, the afternoon sun was turning to night, a violet-like glow that was very different from the normal New York sunset.

  Up further ahead, a tiny dot of a castle could be seen on the horizon, visible only to the sharpest of eyes. It blurred from time to time, a shimmer that the boy didn’t notice at all as he waited. His patience was almost worthy of admiration.

  “You can shift in this space. Don’t be afraid.”

  Max fell to all fours, shuddering crazily now. He rolled.

  He returned to his feet, paws now as he shifted, shifted…as he turned into his full animal form, sleek and hairy and with potential to be bigger as he got older.

  Wolf shifter, just like Hunter. Imagine the odds.

  In wolf form, Max looked up, snout pointing to the sky and waiting as the moon rose. When it did, he howled, so long and loud that even Hunter could feel the thirst for freedom from it. The moon wasn’t full tonight, but it glowed yellow, calling out to Hunter’s instincts and cajoling him to shift, too. More controlled in that department, he held it in, braced in his human form for now.

  Watching, observing, as the small wolf started to move, jumping from one place to another before running around the field like a little maniac.

  There was no surprise when Max glanced at him but didn’t attack. In fact, the wolf didn’t move towards him at all, indicating a restraint that was pretty admirable, too. The animal was wary, but not violent enough to attack without cause. Not like those vampires, and definitely not like most shifters nowadays.

  That meant there was something here still worth saving, if only Max would let him.

  The little wolf ran around a long time, chasing after some wayward rabbits and not catching one. Hunter bit back a grin. When his stomach growled, he realized he’d been watching for an hour, going on two—and dinner was up. A rabbit sounded nice, sure, but nothing beat a warm meal in a warm mansion.

  He was a beast, but not a complete barbarian.

  As if Max sensed it, too, he stopped. In front of Hunter, he shifted back to his human form, a slower process than most adults but still with potential. Before Hunter could open his mouth and state that he had warm dinner and fresh clothes inside, Max tensed. Hunter glanced behind him, waiting as Levi approached with purposeful intent and a very serious expression.

  The words out of the shifter guard’s mouth were alarming.

  “Celine’s awake. And she’s in labor.”

  Chapter 6

  The wail of a child woke Celine up from the fringes of an incoming nightmare: dark clouds over her head, the sound of heavy breathing behind her. Dark red eyes flashed in that darkness as she held tightly to her baby and ran away as fast as her feet could carry her.

  When wakefulness cleared her mind and senses, she realized that maybe that nightmare wasn’t quite as unreal as she wanted it to be.

  Already alert, she took in the room she was in, the details astounding and confusing at the same time: elegant, but also worn around the edges, from the walls to the floors. Obviously expensive furniture, including the canopy bed, some of which was very outdated. The only door to the bedroom was closed, and beside her—

  Her heart froze, then beat too fast, when she realized there was a small, white bassinet beside her. She scrambled into a sitting position, panicked when she felt the soreness in her body, particularly in between her legs—felt her deflated stomach, her bump smaller. The panic bubbled up, her hand reaching out and inside the bassinet…wrapping around softness, and a figure that had her chest squeezing.

  It squeezed further when she peeked, hope and fear wrapping around her like a sly blanket. Her heart ached hard when, under the covers, she saw what she was hoping for: a tiny figure of a human, pale and chubby, with a cherub’s face and lashes that fluttered above her rosy cheeks. Sleeping peacefully.

  The most beautiful little thing that Celine had ever seen in her life.

  It almost felt like a dream when her hands wrapped around the figure, instinct allowing her to be as gentle as possible in lifting the baby from the bassinet and into her arms. A baby girl, with no tuft of hair and the tiniest, cutest set of toes. The baby's head buried against Celine’s chest, and it was instinct again that had her shifting her clothes—new clothes, she couldn’t fail noticing—until the baby could latch on to her breast.

  Outside the bedroom there were whispers, making wariness come. She arranged the bed's sheet over the baby’s head and the feeding, waiting until the door opened and in entered two figures: one she recognized, the other she didn’t. She relaxed a bit at the sight of the boy, who looked fresh from a shower and had lost some of the haunted look he had when they'd first met.

  Not a feat, really, considering they'd been tied up in a van at the time.

  “Max,” she greeted, remembering the name Hunter had called him. Speaking of Hunter…she turned to the man in the room, who was just as huge as Hunter in terms of muscle and mass. Taller, though—way taller, which was impressive considering she wasn’t a dwarf in the height department. This man had far gentler brown eyes than Hunter, open with friendliness and a seemingly muted respect of her personal space.

  That didn’t mean he could be trusted.

  “Let me guess. You’re Hunter’s partner in crime.”

  The man’s brows rose, drawing her attention to their color: reddish-brown...russet. It was slightly curly, but not unkempt. He shook his head.

 

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