Caine’s hazel gaze locked with Landon’s.  “The Omega asked me to seek your help.”

Landon’s chest constricted as fury and resentment swept through him.  Each year the Omega board ruled that his substandard sense of smell disqualified him from the annual Alpha challenge—which was more than a test of physical endurance but proof of a were’s leadership ability and combat strategy—yet they didn’t have a problem coming to him for help. He ground his teeth and gritted out, “Nathan is their chosen Alpha.  Let him find his lost werewolf zerkers.”

“Nathan doesn’t know.”

Landon scowled at Caine.  “As leader of the pack, Nathan should’ve been informed.”

Caine crossed his arms over his chest.  “You know damned well why he wasn’t. Nathan would go to war with the vampires.  The Sanguinas are the only ones strong enough to overcome a zerker.”

“The vampires don’t know zerkers exist!” Landon hissed.  “How do you know the three weres didn’t leave on their own? It’s not like they were welcomed in the wolf pack.”  Landon might not be caught between shape-shifted forms like the zerkers, but he definitely understood what it felt like to be ostracized. 

Caine’s gaze narrowed.  “Something happened to them. Blood was everywhere. Werewolf blood.”

What a helluva mess.  Landon ran a hand through his hair as his mind raced through the ramifications of the news Caine had just dumped on him.  “What does the Omega want from me?”

Caine’s shoulders visibly relaxed.  “They know you have a tenuous truce with the Sanguinas’ new leader, Jachin Black. They want you to talk to him and find out if the vampires had anything to do with our zerkers’ disappearance.”

And how the hell was he going to do that without revealing the zerkers’ existence to the Sanguinas?  Landon set his jaw and gazed into the woods around him. 

“The Omega are trying to avoid a war, Landon.  Wouldn’t you do this for your pack?”

He glared at Caine, giving him a low, threatening growl.  The bastard knew better.  Landon would do anything for the Lupreda.  The pack’s well-being had always been his top priority.

“They sent you on purpose.” Landon jerked the ax from the stump. Gripping the wood handle tighter, he stalked away, heading toward his cabin.

“Probably true.” Caine’s low laughter caught up to Landon as the younger were fell into step beside him.  “They know you have a soft spot for me.”

Landon slanted his gaze at Caine. “I would think you’d have a vested interest in the pack’s concern over the zerkers’ disappearance. If you don’t, you should.”

“That was way below the belt.”

Landon paused and glanced over his shoulder at the pain underscoring Caine’s tone.  The younger were had halted. His fists were curled by his side, his eyes slitted and his lip lifted in a snarl.

Gripping the bullet slug that hung from a silver chain around his neck, Landon rubbed his finger across the partially crumpled metal. “Yes, it was, but you need to be reminded how closely you ride the line. Past mistakes linger with you.”

Caine’s angry expression melted away as he approached him.  Clapping his hand on Landon’s bare shoulder, his lips straightened to a firm line. “Yeah, I know.”

Their gazes locked—a lifetime of support reflected between them.

“I’ll see what I can do.” Landon finally broke the silence.

Caine smiled and punched Landon’s arm.  “I’ve already insisted they reinstate you.”

“Nathan will love that—the Omega undermining him.”  Landon snorted.

Caine followed him up the cabin’s wooden porch.  “Nathan’s an idiot.”

“On that we definitely agree,” Landon said with a grin.

“Nathan will never forgive you for kicking his ass in front of a captive audience of weres and vampires.”

Landon shrugged.  “I did what needed to be done to protect our pack from an all out war with  the vampires.  Jachin will make a fair leader of the Sanguinas.”

 “I think it’s rich Nathan can’t oust you completely since your property butts the edge of Lupreda land.” Caine’s eyes lit with feral intensity. “By the way, fair warning, ever since you so thoroughly trounced him three months ago, he openly spouts off about how much he hates your guts and if he runs across your traitorous ass, he’ll rip your heart out.”

Landon welcomed the primal need for a rematch that rose up inside him. He gave the younger were a calm, deadly smile.  “Tell Nathan I said, ‘Bring it on’.”

* * * * *

Landon glanced up from talking with a police officer and nodded to Jachin with the vampire entered Jamie's pub in New York's Lower East Side.  Jachin looked healthier than Landon had ever seen him.  Apparently, mated life suited the Sanguinas' leader well.

“Gotta meet with a friend.” Landon stood up from the table.

“Later, Rourke.” The burly officer with a red-veined nose picked his mug up, saluted Landon then knocked back his entire beer in one big gulp.

Clapping the man on the back, Landon smiled.  “Make sure you take the subway home, Mike.”

“Yeah, yeah, I hear ya,” Mike called after him. Smoke clung to Landon’s skin as he wound his way around the small café tables and headed toward the bar.  The scent of peanuts and alcohol, intertwined with the patrons’ sweat—heavily loaded with varying emotions, from depression to euphoria—reached out and yanked at his heightened senses while he passed through the crowd.  Out in open air, his sense of smell wasn’t as acute as his werewolf brethren, but in close quarters…the onslaught around him left him a little dizzy and reeling.  Landon snorted, blowing a gust of air out his nose to clear it.  He needed his senses on full alert around Jachin.

Jachin’s deep blue gaze watched him with predatory wariness as Landon approached the bar.  He lifted his shot glass in salute. “It’s been a while.”

“Three months.” Landon settled on a tall barstool and called to the bartender, “I’ll have a Guinness.”

After the bartender set his draft in front of him and walked away, Landon took a deep drink.  The thick beer tasted good going down.  Eyeing Jachin, he wondered how Jachin’s human mate was faring living among the vampires. “How’s Ariel? She’s a resilient human, surviving that bullet wound like she did.”

Jachin frowned. “If it hadn’t been for my sister’s medical knowledge…” he paused then shook his head and chuckled. “My mate’s tough.  She’s finally feeling herself again.  She’s pregnant and has been throwing up like a champ for several weeks.”

A child? While a smile tugged at his lips, a burning sensation spread through his chest. Was that jealousy? Probably indigestion.  Damned raw steak he’d had for dinner a few hours ago.

“How are things with your pack?” Jachin he rolled his empty shot glass along his cupped palm and his gaze turned serious.

Tension whipped through Landon, knotting his shoulders at the center of his spine.  He gripped his mug’s handle tight and stared at the dark liquid in the glass.  “The Alpha kicked me out for challenging him at the sacrificial circle.” 

“Attacking your Alpha was ballsy.”

Landon’s gaze snapped to Jachin’s. “Nathan was too caught up in you trespassing on Lupreda land.  He would’ve called for the entire pack to kill you, no matter the losses on either side. I had to give you enough time to move the ascendancy chalice and claim your leadership.  With you as the new vampire leader, peace between our races might one day be a reality.” 

“You shouldn’t be separated from your pack.”

Landon shrugged at the anger in Jachin’s tone.  He knew he’d eventually kill Nathan.  Was it justifiable homicide if the man deserved to die from sheer, arrogant stupidity?  But damnit, if he did take the bastard out, Landon didn’t know if there was anyone with enough balls to lead the pack.  Nathan had brass ones. Unfortunately, the shithead didn’t have the brains to go with the role.

After a few tense seconds passed, Jachin said, “There’s a reason you called me here.”

Landon met Jachin’s steady gaze head-on. “The Omega want to know if the Sanguinas have anything to do with the disappearance of three of our weres.”

Jachin’s easy smile faded.  “The Lupreda think the Sanguinas are responsible? Why?”

“Because our men are missing.”

The vampire’s deep blue eyes narrowed and his angular jaw hardened. “You’d better have more than that if you’re going to accuse the Sanguinas, my friend.”

The tension levels between them increased considerably.  Landon heard Jachin’s heart rate lower to a deadly slow thump and smelled the vamp’s testosterone levels increase.  The primal scent hung heavy and thick between them…as if the man was intentionally waving a red flag in front of Landon just to rile him. 

The posturing smell made Landon’s nose hairs burn.  He snorted and pinched the bridge of his nose to keep from reacting.  A good brawl was probably exactly what “he” needed, but it wouldn’t be conducive to his reason for being there.

“The weres weren’t taken unharmed,” Landon said in a cold tone.

“And who could’ve done that, Landon?” While his black eyebrows drew downward, Jachin’s expression held sincerity. “What Sanguinas would be able to walk into the middle of a wolfpack and take three weres without being detected and attacked by the rest of the pack?”

The hairs on the back of Landon’s neck rose in defense. “The weres weren’t living with the pack.”

A lethal calm settled over the vampire’s features.  “Why would these other weres be living outside of the group?  Did the Alpha kick them out, too? The Lupreda’s best defense is their cohesiveness.”

“No humans could’ve taken these men,” Landon said, evading Jachin’s question.  “So I’ll ask you again…are the Sanguinas responsible?”

Jachin’s fingers cinched around the shot glass, shattering it. Shards of glass scattered across the bar top as he growled in a low voice, “Have you considered the possibility one of your own might’ve attacked your missing weres?”

Landon’s chest tightened at Jachin’s comment.  He didn’t want to think an insurrection was possible—that a Lupreda could be responsible, but Nathan had been the one who’d wanted to eliminate the weres once they went zerker.  Only the Omega’s humane ruling had saved the young weres’ lives…even if the zerkers had to live away from the pack.  Had Nathan won others to his side and taken out the zerkes, despite the Omega?

When Jachin opened his hand and pieces of glass fell to the bar, Landon saw the vampire’s cuts heal right before his eyes.  Obviously Jachin had fully recovered from the sickness that had almost destroyed the vampires twenty-five years ago when human blood mysteriously turned poisonous to vampires, forcing the vampires to withdraw from the huma world.  When a human woman wrote a book about vampires three months ago, Jachin knew she was the one to fulfill his father’s dying prophesy of a better way for vampires to live.  He took over the clan and claimed the human named Ariel Swanson as his mate.  From the fast healing Landon had just witnessed, Ariel’s blood was indeed viable.

Landon’s gaze jerked to Jachin’s furious one, his concern growing for his pack’s safety. If the Lupreda ended up going to war with the Sanguinas, fully recovered vampires would have a definite advantage.  “There have been reports of a few homeless humans who’ve gone missing the past couple of months.  Have you discovered that other humans’ blood is viable as well?”

Jachin nodded. “Apparently the sickness is being bred out of the humans. The younger ones’ blood isn’t poisonous.”

Landon clenched his fists.  “Have other vampires been feeding then?  Missing humans isn’t a very humane approach, Jachin.”

Jachin’s gaze narrowed before he finally answered in an even tone.  “There are some vampires who deserted the clan when I became the Sanguinas’ new leader.  Our Sweeper unit hasn’t located all of the rogue vampires yet.  A few still remain at large, evading our detection.  It’s possible they’ve discovered how to tell which humans are no longer poisonous.”

“If that’s true, your rogue vampires could’ve taken our weres.”  As Landon stared intensely at him, the vampire’s jaw began to tic. They each were weighing the other’s sincerity.  “No matter yours and my goals for peace, hatred still runs deep between our races,” Landon finally said once his temper had settled to simmering tolerance.

Jachin smiled then, his white teeth flashing in the bar’s dim light.  “Then it’s up to us to set a positive example.”  He inclined his head slightly.  “Though I don’t see how the rogue vampires could’ve attacked and taken your weres without leaving their scent behind, if they did take your brethren, their actions wouldn’t be condoned by me or any member of my clan.”

Landon nodded.  “The Omega won’t like the answer, but they might understand it.”

Jachin brushed the last bits of glass from his palm, then ran his credit card through the payment machine on the bar counter in front of him.  As he slid the card into his leather coat pocket, he said, “We’ll step up the Sweeper unit presence in the city.  I have no idea what the rogue vampires would do with weres, other than enjoy battling with them. Their food source is in town, not in the Shawangunk mountain range.”  Stepping down from the stool, Jachin continued, “You never did tell me why the missing Lupreda weren’t living with the pack.”

Landon made his payment and stood up, the wooden stool scraping the hard floor behind him.  He was slightly broader in the chest than Jachin, while the vampire had at least an inch on Landon’s six-foot-two height.  The men faced each other, each measuring the other with steady, assessing stares.  Landon inhaled, posturing instinctively.  Decades of distrust still smoldered between them. Like dying embers in a fire, the slightest whiff of aggressiveness would ignite the blaze once more.

Old habits died hard. 

Trust had to be earned…over time.  “They didn’t walk in line with the Alpha,” Landon said. As he turned away, he mentally grunted at the double meaning behind his honest response.

Chapter One

“I heard you were awesome with the kids at Handleburg Hall tonight.”

Kaitlyn snorted into the cell phone and peered out her car window into the dark parking lot. “For cripe’s sake, Abby Brooks, I haven’t even left the orphanage yet.  Who’s your spy and is he old enough to work for the NYPD?”

“I have my vays,” Abby’s smug purr came across the line.  “I hear you’re coming back next week. Are we getting hooked on these kids like I told you you would?”

She’d had a great time tonight.  “Yeah, you could say that.”  Kaitlyn might’ve grown up in a loving home, but she had one thing in common with Handleburg’s troubled teens.  The sobering realization hit her tonight when one of the kids challenged her during her speech on working for the police.  He told her she knew nothing of what his life was like. 

That was true enough. She didn’t grow up in a drug-riddled home or had to worry about gang shootouts happening in the middle of the night or day.  But in the not to distant future, just like these young men and women, she’d be parentless, too.  Then her police co-workers, Abby and the ‘Hall’ teens would be the only family she had.  If nothing else, she hoped she could give the teens the support they needed to know that they didn’t have to follow the same path their parents had.

“Thanks for hooking me up for the lecture. Oh, by the way, they want me to help demonstrate in your Tae Kwon Do class next Thursday,” Kaitlyn said as she turned the key and started the car.  “And drum roll…I’ve decided to commit at least one night a week to Handleburg.”

“That’s wonderful, Kaitlyn.  But what about your mom?”

Kaitlyn turned up the heat to ward off the chilly fall air.  “Mom has a lot more bad than good days now.  When she’s having bad days, she doesn’t want company.  The pain medicine makes her sleep a lot.  I thought spending time with the kids would keep my mind off her. Otherwise, I just…” she paused. Worry for her mom clogged her throat.

“That makes sense to me, hon.  Did you get the gift I sent to your new digs?”

Kaitlyn laughed.  “Yes, thank you for the congratulations gift.  I’ve already attached the small voice recorder to my keychain.”

“I figured you could dictate during boring stakeouts, but hey, I’m not done.  Let’s go to Fuel and celebrate your promotion to detective.”

Kaitlyn pulled out the parking lot and drove down the road. “Not tonight, Ab—”

 “You really should celebrate and cut loose. Not to mention, it’s been a while since you’ve been out on the ‘scene’.  Mr. Right could be there at the bar, waiting to sweep you off your bonnie Irish feet.”

More like the guy’d be ready to jump into the sack with the first woman who said yes.  She knew Abby’s suggestion that she help out at Handleburg and now this invitation to the bar was her best friend’s way of helping her find someone to care for in her life, yet Abby’s casual “Mr. Right” comment caused thoughts of her last boyfriend to flit through Kaitlyn’s mind. She hadn’t dated anyone since she broke up with Remy two years ago.

She’d definitely been attracted to his clean-cut charm and understated bad-boy ege.  After dating the guy for a little over a year, they’d grown apart, seeming to have less in common than she first thought.  The man’s obsession with being a Garrotter like his father finally became more than she could deal with.  Remy chose to live in the past. She didn’t.

She wasn’t surprised when she heard Remy had joined up with the old vampire hunter group.  The Garotters had reinstated themselves three months ago in response to a woman’s kidnapping. Ariel Swanson had been abducted right after her fictional book about vampires was released to the public.  Sheesh, it was just a book!  While it was true vampires had cut a murderous path through the human population in their past, the monsters had been extinct for a good twenty-five years.

“Sorry, I’ve got an early day tomorrow. Along with my new promotion, I was assigned my first case.  I have a good bit of research ahead of me.”

“So dedicated.” Abby gave a resigned sigh.  “You know your father would be proud of you.”

Would her father be proud? Kaitlyn wondered as she rolled to a stop at a stoplight. She hoped so.  She missed his gravely voice and lilting accent.

Blinking back the moisture in her eyes, she pushed on the gas pedal when the light turned green. “Thanks for the congrats and for your friendship.  I don’t know what I’d have done with out you these last few years.  Call me tomorrow and tell me how Fuel went.”

“How’d you know I was going anyway?”

Kaitlyn laughed. “This is you we’re talking about.  I’ll talk to you later. Bye.” Once she closed her cell phone, out of habit, Kaitlyn turned on her police scanner instead of the radio.

While listening to the calls coming in and the police officers responding, she considered the biggest crime situation facing the force today.  Other than drugs, gunrunning had always been an issue for the city.

A couple months ago, a Tacomi vehicle loaded with pulser guns was hijacked on its way to a government warehouse. The laser weapons had been created to give the police an advantage over criminals now sporting Kevlar.  Apparently, the thugs wanted the pulser weapons the police were carrying, but when rumors had come through that the Garotters were active again and carrying pulser weapons, most police officers turned a blind eye.  Except for her boss.

Kaitlyn’s headlights sliced through the darkness as she took a side road that led to the interstate. 

Her boss had set his sights for a bigger role and he wanted a juicy “win” to bring to the table when promotion time came around.  His informants had told him this new self-funded Garotter regime had ties to the Mafia, which fell in line with the greater number of pulser weapons being carried by well-known Mafia men, too. Kaitlyn’s first assignment was to ferret out the Mafia connection, if there truly was one.  Hence the major research she needed to do tomorrow.

A crackling call came across the scanner, capturing her attention. “Lady reports yelling and a flash of bright lights in Morningside Park.”

Without hesitation, more out of habit than anything else, Kaitlyn punched in her badge number and hit the call button, “This is Detective McKinney. I’m in the vicinity. I’ll check it out.”

“Copy, McKinney.  Back up is on their way. ETA seven minutes.”

“Copy, dispatch.”

Heart thumping a little harder, Kaitlyn reached into her glove compartment. Once she’d pulled out her gun in its leather holster, she clipped the holster to her belt.  Securing a palm-sized comm unit beside her gun, she then turned her vehicle down another road and headed toward Morningside.

Just like her father…there was no such thing as “off-duty” in her mind.

Kaitlyn pulled into the darkened, pothole riddled parking lot.  She scanned the abandoned park’s broken picnic shelter roof and the graffiti on the restroom building next to it. 

A lone streetlight provided little illumination for the park area that backed up to the woods.  Under her coat, the tiny hairs on her arms began to stand up, warning her.

Turning off her headlights, Kaitlyn reached beneath her seat and withdrew the NYPD issue flashlight. She wrapped her fingers around the cool heavy-duty metal and got out of the car.

Kaitlyn closed the door with a quiet click and took slow, even breaths.  Pulling her coat out of the way, she rested her hand over her gun, tucked in its holster, as she scanned the shadowed playground.

Adrenaline pumped through her veins and she turned her flashlight toward the merry-go-round slowing to its final spin at the same time she unsnapped the holster, removing her weapon.  Backup would be here soon, she told herself as an invisible force seemed to pull her toward the play equipment.

An owl hooted; its deep night call sliding icy fingers down her spine.  She gripped the gun’s handle, while cool air, laced with the faint scents of home fires and pine, kissed her cheeks.

“Police officer. Come out now!” She moved across the parking lot, and puffs of frosted air plumed in front of her with each breath she took.

As soon as she stepped out of the streetlight’s glowing circle into the darkened playground, a grating, nails-on-a-chalkboard sound echoed in the darkness, skidding all the way to her bones.

She froze in place.  Her breath caught while she listened for the source of the sound.  Another piercing squeak echoed before the equipment came to a complete halt.

The merry-go-round.

Her flashlight swept the monkey bars, the play hut and slide. Whoever it was must be gone now.  The tension in Kaitlyn’s stomach eased and she began to breathe again.  Confidence restored, she started toward the shadowed equipment with assured strides.

A gust of wind rushed past her, so strong, so specifically directed—as if someone or something had dashed right past her at a rapid pace—it flapped open her coat, sending frigid air straight through her cotton button-down shirt underneath. 

Her skin prickled and Kaitlyn halted. Cinching her grip around the gun, she quickly traced the wind’s path with the light.

Not a soul. Only leaves floating in the air and her car sitting in the dimly lit parking lot behind her.  I’m losing it.

Shrugging, she faced forward once more.  This time she tuned into every little sound. Broken glass and leaves crunched underneath her shoe’s hard soles, and tiny pebbles scattered out of her way as she approached the merry-go-round.

She could go back to her car and wait, but an underlying “need to know” drove her forward.

Once she reached the merry-go-round, she shone the beam of light on the base. Faded, chipped blue and red paint created pie pieces on the round wooden floor.  An empty beer bottle sat in the middle.

Kaitlyn sighed and gripped the merry-go-round’s cool metal handrail with her gun hand, while she scanned her flashlight across the open field behind the playground and then into the dark forest beyond.

Other than a blanket of low fog hanging a few inches above the cool grass, nothing was there.

Shaking her head at the boondoggle call someone had made to the police, she turned to leave, but something caught her eye in the open field behind the playground. The wind must’ve blown the fog away, exposing what had been hidden underneath.

Glowing embers. Fiery orange.

Beckoned by an unseen force, she ran toward the bits of burning ash.

As she moved closer, the smell of burnt hair and flesh permeated the air, making her stomach roil.

When she reached the area and the full ashy sight came into focus, the need to retch grew so strong, she gagged. Surrounding the ashes left behind, a glowing, aura-like outline remained where a body had once lain.  The aura revealed arms and legs in a straight out position as if the victim had been staked to the ground.

Her pulse raced out of control and she began to shake all over.  She knew most people didn’t see auras, especially of dead people, like she did.  A detailed outline always surrounded the bodies.  It was as if, at the moment of their death, each victim left a strong energy signature behind—a signature to give her clues. And this time it was a neon purple color.  Purple meant the death had been brutal. 

Death always upset her, especially violent murders, but what frightened her most was the shape of this outline surrounding the ashes.

While she scanned the forest with her flashlight to make sure no one was lurking in the woods, she contemplated what she’d tell her fellow officers once they showed up.  The aura wasn’t like any human she’d ever seen.  The other police officers might not be able to see the energy signature she did, but she hoped the lab might be able to lift the DNA of the victim from the ashes.

Lights flashed behind her and her insides jerked to attention. Kaitlyn turned to see a vehicle pulling into the parking lot.  It wasn’t a squad car.

“Damn,” she whispered and crouched to quickly turn off the light.  This wasn’t the best area of town and she was alone. Even though Abby had trained her to red belt level in Tae Kwon Do and she had a gun, she wasn’t taking any chances.

She had no idea who was in that black truck, yet the distinctive grill across the front looked familiar. As she racked her brain, trying to remember where she’d seen the vehicle, a tall man stepped out. 

Landon Rourke.

His wide shoulders looked even broader covered by a leather jacket that stopped at his thighs.  The streetlight shone on his light brown hair and highlighted his strong jaw as he started across the lot toward the playground.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Kaitlyn stood up slowly.  She tucked her gun away and stared at the man approaching. 

Landon had offered his PI expertise to the police from time to time in the past, most often in the field.  Hence the reason she’d only seen him a couple of times at the station. His dominant presence wasn’t easy to forget.  From his confident bearing to his aggressive stride, the man was definitely an impression maker.

She’d heard that he’d stopped working with the police a few years ago.  Rumors abounded; the most popular was that he’d had a falling out with the now retired chief.

What was he doing here?

Landon made his way across the playground toward Kaitlyn McKinney. His teeth were clamped so tight, he thought his jaw might shatter.  He couldn’t believe it when he pulled into the parking lot and her car was there.    

It was bad enough the bastard who’d called him on his cell phone twenty minutes ago had told Landon to come to this particular park. The fact that Kaitlyn was also here sent a warning through his body, while guilt slithered a slimy, winding path through his conscience. 

“If you want your missing pack members, go to Morningside Park.  They might be a bit steamed when you get there.”

The line had gone dead.  All Landon knew, until he could have the phone number traced, was that the caller was a man.  It wasn’t a voice he’d ever heard before.

When he was within thirty feet of Kaitlyn, Landon bit back a howl of fury. His chest tightened with the need to roar. He scented burnt flesh—Lupreda flesh—floating through the air toward him.  The need for revenge rippled through him, contracting every muscle in his body. Sick Bastards.  Fisting his hands, he mentally vowed to rip apart whoever was responsible for murdering his pack mates…zerkers or not.