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my friend. She’s not meant for you, slayer.’

That got Creek to laugh. ‘Oh, who is she meant for? Mal?’

‘Yes.’

‘You really believe that, don’t you?’

‘Yes. And so does Mal.’ Again the feeling of being watched ran over his skin like ants.

‘Who she’s with is her choice.’ Creek started after the Nothos, now no longer in sight.

Doc let it drop, picking up his pace to match the slayer’s. Minutes passed in uncomfortable silence, but they covered more ground, finally catching up to the Nothos again.

‘They’re slowing,’ Creek whispered.

More than slowing, they were scaling the wall of another estate, disappearing one by one over the side. ‘They’re going home.’

‘Back to Tatiana.’

‘Yes.’ The last Nothos vanished over the wall. Doc turned to Creek. ‘I’m going to do some recon. You in?’

In answer, Creek leaped to the top of the wall. No way could a human have done that. The brother was definitely enhanced. He looked down at Doc expectantly.

A second later, Doc stood beside him. He inhaled, catching the stench of the Nothos. He tapped the side of his nose, then pointed forward. Keeping to the top of the wall, they followed the odor.

Once the wall veered away from the roadside, palms and magnolias clustered against it, giving them cover. They slunk forward, now on all fours, moving cautiously. The smell of brimstone grew stronger.

Through the trees, they watched the Nothos file into the property’s guesthouse. On the driveway connecting the two, a male vampire carried a bound and gagged female toward a high-end sedan.

Doc pushed some palm fronds out of the way to see better and caught sight of the woman’s face. His blood chilled. Mia. Despite the bruises on her face, he recognized her. Pasha’s claims of seeing her death filled Doc’s head.

The vampire threw her onto the backseat, slammed the door, then got in behind the wheel. The car headed for the gated entrance.

Doc grabbed Creek’s arm. ‘I know that girl. I’m going after her. You get back to Chrysabelle’s, tell her we found Tatiana.’

Without waiting for an answer, Doc threaded past Creek, under the palms and back to the road. The car was already through the gate, its taillights red as embers a few yards up the road. Wherever that vampire was taking Mia, it couldn’t be good.

He jumped down, ready to run. A hand closed over his arm. He whirled around to see Ronan. ‘What are you—’

Ronan clamped a rag over Doc’s nose and mouth. ‘Time to pay the piper, shifter. Imagine finding you and Maris’s killer in one night. Dominic is seriously going to owe me.’ Powder on the cloth clung to Doc’s mouth and nostrils, the bitter taste an instant warning. He struggled not to breathe, but his heart jackhammered in his chest. He thrashed out at Ronan, but the fringe dodged him. At last Doc inhaled, choking as the powder clogged his airway. His throat burned and the taste of dirty nickels coated his tongue. The back of his brain went numb.

Ketamine.

A thick, heavy curtain closed around him. The ground under him fell away and he slipped down, down, down into a blackness as endless as death.

Chapter Twenty-nine

Mal adjusted the Heliotrope’s speed down to a crawl. By now, Creek and Doc had probably fought off the Nothos. Or had died trying. What had Doc been doing at Chrysabelle’s house anyway? Maybe she’s kissing him, too.

‘I think we’re far enough out. I can’t even see the house.’ Chrysabelle had stayed quiet while Mal piloted her mother’s yacht through the waters of the Intracoastal, but now she kicked her feet up onto the leather sectional. ‘You could have let Creek drive the boat and gone after the Nothos yourself.’

He grunted in response. Did she really prefer Creek? The voices cheered as his stomach sank. She wants him, not you. Good riddance.

‘Or I could have fought alongside all of you.’

Yes, because the last time she’d faced the Nothos, she’d done so well.

‘Of course, I realize because of our deal you have a stake in my protection.’

That wasn’t the only reason. Should he tell her how he felt? How could he when he wasn’t even sure. Liar. Fool. Coward.

‘How’d you learn to drive a boat like this anyway?’

‘You pick up a lot in five hundred years.’

‘Oh good. For a moment I thought you’d gone mute.’ She jumped up and walked toward the control panel, where he stood between the wheel and the captain’s chair. She reached for a red button. ‘What’s this do?’

He grabbed her hand before she made contact with the distress locator. ‘Not that one.’

‘You feel a little cold. Time to feed soon.’

He let her hand go as his fangs shot down. Not the proper response. Especially when she’d made her choice and it hadn’t been him. Never will be you. ‘I’m good.’ He backed away, needing distance. ‘Take the wheel.’

‘And do what?’ The narrowest ribbon of panic curled through her voice.

‘Just hold it steady.’ He stayed far enough away that her perfume didn’t wind around him like the serpent that had beguiled Eve. Why had he thought being in a confined space with her was a good idea? Close enough to bite. To drink. To drain. She’d probably get bored and head out to the deck any minute.

Instead, she grabbed the wheel. ‘You should teach me to drive in case I ever need to.’

A second later he was behind her.

She jumped, backing into him, then pulling away just as fast. ‘I hate when you do that.’

Was it him that made her jumpy? Someone with her experience with vampires should be used to the speed at which they moved. Or maybe his closeness bothered her because she wasn’t entirely sure Creek was the right choice. From his spot behind her, he put his hands on her shoulders and steered her into the captain’s chair, then planted his hands on the armrests. He leaned in and almost sniffed the curve of her neck. Almost. The whining in his head kicked up a notch.

‘See

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