When she faced Nolan, she saw that he was sitting up, arm outstretched through the bar. Waiting patiently. She hurried over to him, careful not to slosh a single drop over the side.


"Aren't you going to have a glass?" he asked.


"Of course." Red wine was the only human beverage she enjoyed. Back in the kitchen she poured another tumbler full. She rejoined Nolan and they held up their cups in unison. "To Devyn's downfall."


Together, they drained the contents.


The red liquid slid down her throat, warm and smooth, but not what she needed. At least her stomach remained calm. "Glass, please," she said, holding out her hand. If he were to drop it and cut himself, well, that wouldn't be good.


Though he was scowling at her, he relinquished possession without incident. "Thank you."


"You're welcome." He eased back on the cot and stared up at the ceiling. "Will you at least leave me a game or something? Any more from the stupid voice in my head, and I'll welcome a lynch mob."


"I don't have any games. You should nap. Might help you heal."


"That's what I've been doing for four days, and as you can see, I haven't healed."


Guilt wound through her. She'd wanted to capture him, yes, but not torture him. "What if I switch on the TV?"


"Fine." He waved his hand in dismissal, but she noticed the action was stronger, less shaky than any he'd made before. Was her blood already working, or was he excited at the thought of watching television and simply didn't want her to know? "Whatever."


She almost laughed. A "Yes, Bride, thank you, Bride" wouldn't have been amiss. Men. After she'd angled the screen toward the cell and found him a decent station— As the Otherworld Turns was playing—she crossed her arms over her middle. "Do you need anything else?"


"Freedom would be nice."


"Besides that."


His gaze pursued her, lingering on her breasts, between her legs. "How about your body?”


“Besides that."


A moment passed while he considered his other options. "You know what sounds really nice about now? Not just Devyn's downfall, but his head on a platter."


Slowly she grinned. "I'll see what I can do."


CHAPTER 6


For three days, Devyn kept Macy in his sights. He even escorted her throughout the city at all hours on the pretense of searching for Bride, never telling her that she was merely his bait. She'd been more than happy to join him. She had no idea he kept her on a deliberate path, planting her scent along select buildings and shops.


To his consternation, Bride never revealed herself, and he never felt her eyes on him. Didn't matter. One way or another, he would draw her out of hiding. He was determined. He'd give this one more day, then think of something else to do.


"Ready to move on?" he asked.


"No. I texted Breean when I realized where we were headed, so he's on his way here. Besides, we've just been going in circles," Macy said, frustration dripping from every word.


They were in front of his brand-new apartment complex, the top floor purchased for his and Bride's exclusive use, for the second time that day. They had been here twice yesterday and four times the day before. For some strange reason, he was struck by the urge to "think" about their next plan of action every time they reached this point. And yeah, he'd taken Macy inside a few times, straight to the door that would later become known as Bride's Surrender.


Now he studied her, this former model, now an agent, who was unintentionally aiding him. Sunlight bathed her, highlighting the delicacy of her deceptively innocent features—the girl had a temper and had once slit her own boyfriend's throat. Her skin was creamy and rich, but more than that... surely not... couldn't be. Except, the more intently he looked, the more he was sure he saw a second, startling layer to her. As though she wore a mask. Like Bride.


Devyn intensified his focus. Maybe he'd never looked closely enough to notice the nuances of her, but he was looking now. Finally seeing. At first glance, Macy's eyes were large, a mix of blue and silver. A cap of pale hair framed her face. Her nose was small, and her cheeks rounded, like a cherub's. Now he could see a wider set of green eyes. A longer nose, slimmer cheeks. Dark hair.


Bride, too, had dark hair. Bride had green eyes, as well, though hers were a brighter, lighter shade. Were the two more than friends, perhaps? Were they sisters? Macy wasn't a vampire, but then Bride, with all that sparkling energy and the ability to turn into mist, was definitely more than a vampire. As he'd already surmised. He just had to figure out what else she was. Couldn't be cyborg, as he'd hoped. Wires and metal couldn't change into water.


"What?" Macy asked, shifting uncomfortably. "You're staring." He forced a flirtatious chuckle. "You're pretty, is all.”


“Macy," a male voice called. Both of them turned. "Breean," she said with relief. "You made it."


The golden giant's pace increased. When he reached the agent, he pulled her away from Devyn's side and into his arms. Devyn sighed. Possessive, jealous men were a nuisance. He hadn't been that way over his shrew of a wife, and he wouldn't be that way over one of his many lovers. Ever.


To show possessiveness or jealousy was to stake a claim over a specific female. And to stake a claim was to give up the right to enjoy other females. He shuddered.


Macy twisted in her man's arms, facing Devyn. "Like I was saying about going in circles. No matter what route you take, we always end up here. I'm not stupid. There's a reason. Tell me."


Very well. He'd give her a reason. It wouldn't be the truth, but it would be a reason. "You caught me. I'm thinking of buying property on this side of town and was using company time to scout the area." Best lie he could come up with, but he delivered it smoothly. Lying was second nature to him, maybe because it was just another form of flirting.


The only thing he refused to lie about was what he would do to those who wronged him or his friends. When he made a threat, he saw it through. No hesitation. That, he'd learned from his father. A lesson he'd actually taken to heart. Better that people feared and respected him than underestimate and attempt to hurt him.


"Devyn!" Macy said. "I can't believe you. You've been wasting my time for your own gain."


That's it. Get angry. Maybe the stronger her emotions were, the stronger her scent would be. Bride would finally catch a whiff and start running, as desperate to reach the girl as she'd been when they'd first met. Maybe more so, now that she was so smug about capturing Nolan.


Devyn had been sleeping in the new apartment every night, waiting. Alone. Maybe tonight would be the night they were reunited.


"My bad." Dallas, his partner in this delicious crime, was due to—


Ring, ring.


Perfect timing. As if he didn't know who was calling, he glanced at his cell's ID and tried not to grin. "I have to take this," he told Macy. "You know how Dallas gets when I ignore him."


She nodded stiffly, her irritation with him clearly undiminished. "He's such a pouter." Macy's power of observation was greater than Devyn had assumed.


Doing his best to appear grave, Devyn flipped open his cell and placed it to his ear. "Devyn, king of the Targons and prince of pleasure, speaking. How may I help you?"


"Funny," Dallas said. "You're sounding chipper."


Of course he was. Macy—and now Breean by association—were his puppets. Which meant, Bride would soon be his puppet. Only, he would enjoy pulling her strings. And then wrapping those strings around her wrists and ankles and anchoring her to a bed. And then licking her entire body. And then slipping and sliding inside of her while she shouted his name.


"You couldn't have," he said for Macy's benefit. "Again? Seriously? And you're on her trail now? Tell me, is she wearing the same outfit as last time?"


"You mean skin?" Dallas barked out a chuckle. "Macy right beside you?”


“Affirmative."


"Ohhh, affirmative he says. You know I love it when you talk shop."


To Macy, Devyn said, "Dallas thinks he found the vampire. Again. I can't leave—did you see that skyscraper?— but he'd love some backup. You interested?"


"Yes," she rushed out. "Is he sure this time? Last two nights, we tailed humans. They looked like her, or rather, what you described, sure, but I'm tired of failure."


"You sure this time?" Devyn asked Dallas.


"Affirmative."


That did have a nice ring to it. "He's not, but he doesn't want to take a chance." Devyn allowed some leeway, just in case they needed to relive this scenario tomorrow."


"He's happy to go alone, though, if you—"


"No! No, we'll go. Find out where we should meet him and then tell him not to do anything until we get there. He does remember what happened -the last time the two of you acted alone, yes?"


Devyn relayed the message and rattled off their coordinates. Paused. "No worries, Mace," he told the agent. "He's nearby and is happy to pick you up again."


Breean was frowning. His eyes were narrowed, but he remained silent.


"I thought they'd see through you in a heartbeat," Dallas said in his ear. "I guess I have to choke down another of those Sweet Munchkins." There was disgust in his voice. Rather than use money, they wagered with pastries. Out-of-date, stale, not-fit-for-the-homeless pastries. Loser had to eat one in front of the winner. "Sometimes you're scary brilliant, have I told you that before?"


"I'd argue the word sometimes, but yeah. You're right."


Another laugh. "I'll be there in two." Click.


Sure, he could have let the couple walk away and not sent them with Dallas to track this latest "sighting," but he didn't want the girl's scent spread too far and wide. Hopefully, being inside a vehicle prevented such a thing.


Thinking about the spreading of Macy's scent had him wondering how long Bride had been searching for her. Weeks? Years? If so, why hadn't Bride smelled her until now? He'd tried to subtly question Macy about her own past, but the girl had been tight-lipped. She had to be, he supposed. With an ability like hers, she'd probably been hunted most of her life.


Devyn pocketed his phone. "Like I said, Dallas is nearby and will be pulling along any ... minute. Ah, there he is."


A black van with tinted windows eased to the curb. Because of the tint, Dallas couldn't be seen, but Devyn imagined his friend grinning from ear to ear. Made him want to grin himself, thinking of Dallas happy and amused. It was much better than imagining the agent wallowing in self-pity over that whole blood master issue.


Macy stepped toward the van, the sun stroking the brass of her necklace and glinting in his eye. The necklace. Oh, oh. Devyn jerked her into his body for a hug, stealthily removing and pocketing it. How could he have forgotten about his insurance policy? Well, hopefully it was an insurance policy. "Good luck, darling."


"Uh, thanks, Dev." Awkwardly, she patted his back.


Breean growled low in his throat, and for a moment Devyn feared he'd been found out. But the warrior merely rugged the female from Devyn's clasp and ushered her into the waiting van.


With the passenger door open, Devyn was able to catch a glance of Dallas in the driver's seat. The agent was indeed grinning, white teeth gleaming. He wore a hat that shadowed his eyes, camo pants, and a camo shirt that revealed the new (and scabbed-over) skull-and-dagger tattoo on his right forearm.


Devyn had a matching tattoo on his own arm. They'd drunk too much last night and had thought the identical marks would be funny.


They weren't.


"Nice outfit," Devyn said with a grin of his own. "Planning on hunting the clones on government land while you're out and about?" Clones. Animals.


"Maybe." He was also chewing gum. "You guys ready to chase down a bloodsucker or what?”


“Let's do this," Macy said, slapping Dallas's head rest.


There would be hell to pay when this was over and the truth revealed. Macy would be pissed that he'd used her to capture her friend, which would piss off Breean, which would in turn piss off Mia, because Breean was a powerful warrior and her new favorite.


Devyn could call things off now and prevent the reaming he would surely receive.


Without pause, he shut the door and waved them off. He was whistling as he strolled inside the building.


Bride slunk through the unfamiliar apartment, remaining in the shadows. Her eyes cut through the darkness with the precision of a knife, taking everything in and weighing her options.


Thankfully there wasn't any furniture, so she didn't have to worry about knocking anything down. The air was musty, as if the room hadn't been occupied for some time. Where are you, Leah Leah, and why did you come here?


Aleaha's scent was all over the building and had led directly to this room. After Bride had caught the familiar fragrance a few blocks down, she'd given up her fruitless search for that bastard playboy Devyn and concentrated on her friend instead.


She was embarrassed to admit she almost hadn't switched gears. The urge to find Devyn, to gloat about her victory, to spar with him again, was strong. Besides, she was almost positive he couldn't be as decadently handsome as her memory painted him. Couldn't be nearly as witty or flirtatious. Yet only when she'd smelled his scent mixed with Aleaha's had she finally changed her objective.


What were the two doing together? Were they lovers, as she'd first thought? Did they live together? Devyn's flirtations had seemed so practiced, Bride hadn't thought him capable of commitment. Not that having Aleaha as a semi-permanent or even permanent lover equaled commitment. But if they were together, he was definitely a cheater and Aleaha needed to know.