Yanking her arm free of Syre, Vash rounded on Elijah. “This is your goddamned room!”

His eyes glittered in the semidarkness. His arms crossed, taunting her with the sight of his gorgeous biceps and lickable abs. He was hard al over, precisely cut and built. And she wanted him. Desperately.

Sudden silence descended as the woman abruptly ceased her caterwauling. Syre’s soothing murmurs registered in Vash’s brain, then faded beneath her roaring blood.

“It was my room,” he corrected silkily. “Obviously, I moved.”

She bit off a scream of frustration. His mouth twitched as his gaze took in the scene behind her.

Mortified at her lack of control, she got in his face. “Don’t smirk. If that guy had been you, you’d be swal owing your severed bal s right now.”

He set a hand over his heart. “I feel so loved.”

Her mouth opened on a retort when Raze sauntered up with their reinforcements in tow. He looked at the crumpled metal door, the warped frame, and the situation inside. Then he looked at Vashti with one brow raised.

“Don’t say a word,” she warned him. “Not one fucking word.”

Syre came out of the room like a shadow, sinuous and silent. His face was impassive, but his eyes were deadly. “The mortals won’t remember this incident, but damned if I’l let you forget it, Vashti.”

His chin lifted. Elijah stepped forward, positioning himself in a way that put him between her and her commander. The gesture was a protective one. And undeniably chal enging.

She didn’t need a shield with Syre, but that didn’t stop her throat from tightening over Elijah’s wil ingness to be one for her.

Himeko stepped up behind her Alpha, her smile too damn intimate for Vash’s tastes. “Does your room have two beds, El?”

His gaze never left Syre’s face. “It does, yes. It’s open to whoever wants it.”

Vash fought with herself, wondering if he’d reject her publicly if she jumped at the chance to share a room with him. She didn’t get the opportunity to find out.

Himeko pounced first. “I’l room with you. I know you don’t snore.”

Vash scowled. How the hell did she know that?

“Come on, then.” Elijah gestured down the hal way. “We need to crash. We’re gonna have a hel of a morning in a few hours.”

Which, Vash suddenly realized, was why she needed to be with him so badly. She’d very nearly lost him once. Every minute she wasn’t with him was a minute wasted. The fact that she even thought of her time with him in those minuscule terms was tel ing, considering how long she’d been alive and how much longer she had yet to live.

Needing something else to focus on, she turned to clean up the mess she’d made. Damn it. The poor bastard inside was probably hurt real bad.

She’d hit him with the thought that he was a lycan and therefore could take the force of her strength.

“I took care of it,” Syre said grimly. “His wounds are healed, but he’l have a hel of a headache.”

Wincing, she nodded. “Thank you.”

“Take care of that door,” Syre ordered Raze, before col ecting Vash’s bag from the ground and grabbing her by the elbow to steer her away.

The door to their room hadn’t yet shut behind them when Syre went off. “What the hel are you doing, Vashti?”

Her spine stiffened at his icy tone. “I…I don’t know.”

“You’re a mess. You’re a danger to yourself and everyone around you.”

Her chin lifted, accepting the hit. She was hungry, hurt, bewildered…“I am, yes.”

Cursing, he shoved a hand through his hair. “And I can’t do a fucking thing about it besides stick close and clean up after you.”

Guilt humbled her. He had so much on his plate. He needed her running at one hundred percent. Everyone did. “I’m sorry.”

Syre looked at her and she winced at the torment in his eyes. “No, I’m sorry. After al the times you’ve been there for me…al the ways you’ve helped me over the years…the fact that I can’t do one goddamn thing to help you is kil ing me. You’re fal ing apart, and I can only stand here and pick up the pieces.”

“Samyaza.” She didn’t realize she was crying until she felt the wetness on her cheeks.

He opened his arms to her and she walked into them. Fisting her hands in his shirt, she poured out her confusion in a storm of tears.

Vash entered the motel’s restaurant at eight thirty in the morning and found the lycans eating breakfast. John and Trey sat in one booth, Elijah and Himeko in another. The striking beauty was laughing at something Elijah had said; her sloe eyes were bright and her smile warm. When she reached out and set her hand over El’s, Vash knew they’d slept together at some point in their history.

The bruised feeling in her chest bloomed with a deeper pain and her claws extended, piercing her palms.

Sucking in a deep breath of courage, she did what she’d come to do.

She approached Elijah’s table, meeting Himeko’s gaze when it lifted to hers. “Beat it.”

“Excuse me?”

“Get lost. Take a hike. Go away.”

The lycan visibly bristled. “Now, just a minute—”

“Himeko.” Elijah’s calm, quiet voice settled the matter. “Please excuse us.”

Himeko looked at him, searching his face for something. With a jerky nod, she grabbed her plate and shot Vash a look of pure unadulterated malice.

And they were supposed to fight alongside each other today. Terrific.

Vash settled onto the vacated bench seat and kept her clawed hands clasped under the table.

“That was rude,” he said, slicing into a slab of ham and shoving it into his mouth. “They want to kil you enough as it is. Stop making it worse.”

“She wants you.”

He swal owed. “She’s had me.”

Jealousy dug its green talons into her, shortening her breath.

“Not recently,” he qualified, “and not seriously.”

“It wasn’t enough for her.”

“It was for me. We had a mutual itch and we scratched it. End of story.” He dumped a pat of butter onto his hash browns and mashed it around.

When she didn’t say anything else, he asked, “Was there something you wanted?”

“You look tired.” His eyes were dark and shadowed, his sexy mouth bracketed with deep grooves.

“Do I? You look drop-dead gorgeous, as always.” He delivered the compliment in so dry a tone she couldn’t take it seriously.

“I’m sorry.”

He looked at her then, arching a brow when she didn’t elaborate.

She exhaled in a rush. “I should’ve made a greater effort to tel you about the plan to pair you with Raze. I didn’t think you’d like it, and I chickened out instead of arguing with you. Later, when the plans changed, I avoided the argument altogether by burying it. Trying to bury it. I apologize. I’m not proud that I was a coward about it.”

Elijah studied her, his gaze so intense she nearly squirmed in her seat. It was driving her crazy to sit so close to him with such a yawning gap between them. Every inhale brought his scent into her nostrils, making her heart pound. She knew he heard it, knew he’d sense her hunger just as he had when they’d first met in the Bryce Canyon cave.

He resumed eating, his gaze on his plate. “Apology accepted.”

Relief fil ed her so quickly she got dizzy. That was probably why it took her a heartbeat or two to realize she wasn’t going to get any more from him.

“That’s it?” she demanded when it settled in. “That’s al you’re going to give me?”

“What more did you want?” he asked cool y, scooping his sunny-side-up fried egg onto a triangle of buttered toast. “You apologized. I accepted.”

Her eyes burned. Coming so swiftly on the heels of relief, her disappointment blew the lid off her already volatile mood. “I think I hate you.”

His knuckles whitened on his utensils. “Tread careful y, Vashti.”

“What the fuck do you care? No, don’t answer. You already have, loud and clear.” She slid out of the booth and walked away.

There was a moment of terrible silence.

“Damn it, Vashti.” His silverware clattered onto his plate behind her. “God-fucking-damn it.”

She raced the distance to the Explorer, desperate to get away before he saw her crying. God…she real y was a hot mess. And for what? A sexy lycan who strung legions of panting women along for kicks? Stupid. The whole thing was stupid. She’d been way better off with a dormant sex drive and the lycan working for the Sentinels.

He reached the driver’s-side door just as she locked it with her safely inside.

“Vashti.” He’d never looked more furious. His eyes were wild and glowing, his voice guttural. “Open the door.”

Flipping him the bird with her left hand, she turned the ignition with her right. “Enjoy your breakfast, asshat. I’m going to grab a bite to eat myself.

Fuck if I’l starve myself for you.”

His palm slapped against the window, sending hairline fractures exploding through the safety glass. “Vashti. Don’t run. I won’t be able to control myself if you run.”

She gunned the vehicle into reverse, sending gravel flying from behind the tires. She was on the road a second later, having no idea where she was going and grateful that there wasn’t another soul on the winding rural road.

Pine trees crowded thickly against the serpentine ribbon of asphalt, casting shadows over the highway that perfectly suited her mood. Tears coursed down her face. So many goddamn tears. She’d thought she cried herself dry during the night. It infuriated her that there were more yet to be spil ed.

Gripping the steering wheel in both hands, she screamed to purge the sick, roiling tension inside her. Then she screamed again as she hugged a curve in the road and came face-to-face with a massive chocolate-colored wolf. In the split second it took her to realize she was going to barrel right through him, her world ground to a shuddering halt. She stood on the brakes, distantly felt the antilock system vibrating the pedal madly beneath her feet. The wheels didn’t lock. The car didn’t slow nearly fast enough.

Bracing for the impact, she stiffened into a board… …and nearly lost her sanity when Elijah leaped onto the hood, scrambled over the roof, and jumped off the back.

The Explorer slid into a cutout on the side of the road and came to a jerking stop. Vash slammed the transmission into park and hopped out.

“Are you fucking insane?” she screamed with fists clenched at her sides.

His wild green irises were aglow above a vicious snarl. Al animal, with none of the man in them. He was absolutely crazy.

And she was in big trouble. Huge.

She was faced with the choice of fighting or fleeing. Holding up both hands, she forced her restless body not to move. She debated her options— tearing into him with teeth and claws, ripping him to pieces physical y as he’d done to her emotional y, or just running as far and fast as she could.

She’d outrun lycans before; she could do it again.

Ears flat to his head and teeth bared, Elijah slinked forward, owning the center of the highway. Vash swal owed hard, as riveted by his lupine beauty as she was by his human form. He was stunningly majestic, his thick fur as glossy and rich as his human hair, his movements lethal y graceful. His growl was a deep warning, a rumbling sound of danger that made the hair on her nape stand on end.

Something perverse inside her burst free, fueled by her simmering fury and pain. She’d chased him across the country, then chased him down at breakfast. By god, it was time for him to see what it felt like to pursue. She’d been too damn easy. Just like al the other bitches that fel al over him.

With her eyes on his, her mouth curved in a slow, taunting smile. One of her upraised hands lowered to intersect their line of sight. Al of her fingers curved into her palm except for the middle one. “Fuck you.”

Vash leaped over the hood of the SUV and darted into the woods.

CHAPTER 15

Fresh from a shower, Lindsay tightened the belt of her floor-length satin robe and went downstairs in search of Adrian. It was barely dawn and she knew just where to find him. She moved swiftly and quietly, not wanting to wake the two lycan guards in the guest rooms.

It was time for her to get Adrian to talk.

Being here, in Helena’s former home, was difficult for him, but he wasn’t sharing his pain. And working without Phineas—his second-in- command, whose death had brought them together—was like working without his right hand. Yet he remained reserved and contained, rigidly so. It was the way he needed to be to hold his command, she knew. It was the way he’d been created. But it wasn’t healthy for him. He was adrift and hiding it, shielding her and everyone around him.

Lindsay didn’t ful y understand how Adrian had come to be. Unlike her, he hadn’t been born or raised. He’d been brought into existence just as he was—a ful y mature male angel with a single purpose: to serve as an implement of punishment against other angels.

She couldn’t begin to grasp what that would feel like. She’d been raised by adoring parents. She had been hugged a lot. She’d laughed a lot. Not a day went by when she hadn’t heard “I love you.” In contrast, Adrian had been created to be void of emotion. In time, surrounded by mortals, he’d learned to covet and desire. As a creature built to be hard and merciless, it was the edgier feelings that had manifested first. Later he’d learned to feel loyalty and respect. He had established friendships. Now he was learning how to love her, learning how to give. But the guilt and remorse he was feeling over Phineas’s and Helena’s deaths were beyond his experience. He didn’t know how to express his turmoil, and bottling it up was hurting him more than she could bear.