Then a woman's shape began to take form, though her skin was the exact pattern of the red brick behind her. Even her hair boasted that dusty red as it fluttered in the breeze. His eyes widened, and his breathing quickened. Bride. Here she was, right in front of him, blending into her surroundings like a chameleon. He hadn't known such a thing was possible, had never seen it done before.

Slowly the bricklike pattern faded, leaving the pale nakedness he thought he'd glimpsed this morning but had convinced himself was nothing more than a mind trick. How wrong he'd been. She had indeed been following him, watching him. Idiot. Fool. You pride yourself on your knowledge of the opposite sex. You should have figured out the truth.

"Told you I'd find you," she said smugly. She rubbed between those magnificent breasts, as if something pained her. "Lucky you, I caught sight of you this morning, talking to a group of models leaving a photo shoot. Big surprise. Moment I heard there were models in the area, I knew you'd be nearby."

Knew him so well, did she? Well, he might have heard about the model shoot himself, and that might have been why he'd gone to that side of town, but he'd been asking those women about Nolan, not screwing them blind. So there. You are indeed a fool.

"Come on," she said with a laugh and darted around the corner, away from the action. "Let's play."

Devyn followed, calling, "Stop." He hated leaving Dallas alone with Nolan, but it couldn't be helped. Bride had trailed him all day. Had heard his conversations about Nolan. She now knew things she wasn't supposed to know. Things the public couldn't know.

Thankfully, she stopped, faced him. Her skin and hair were now silver, the color of the stone behind her.

"What? You're eager to talk now?" she asked, and this time her voice was as smooth as silk.

"It is my lucky day, pet," he said, because he didn't know what else to say. Shock was pounding through him, sharp and potent. Shock ... and desire. She was here, and she was naked. "We're together again at last. Did you dream of me?"

"If by dreams you mean night terrors, then yes."

He should stun her, he thought, brain finally kicking into gear. Yes, stun. Hello, Dev. He doubted AIR would mind if he froze her and chained her to his bed. As long as she wouldn't be spilling secrets, they'd be happy.

Without alerting her to his intentions, he aimed, squeezed the trigger. Blue beams illuminated the front of the building.

Like Nolan, she dodged out of the way. Damn it! How were they doing that? Clearly, Devyn needed to learn how to do it so that he could combat it when others did it.

A sexy chuckle escaped her. "I've evaded more pyre-fire over the long years than you can possibly imagine."

"Oh, really?" He fired again, even as his mind latched on to all the energy inside her. He'd controlled her body once; he could control it again. "A naughty girl, were we?

Again, she dodged. Again, she laughed. Until ... he paralyzed that energy, and thereby her body, and she ceased moving. Dear God, the power inside her ... it was a beacon to him, a shimmering drug of light and dominance.

For a moment, he simply luxuriated in all that electric strength, letting it wash through him, intoxicating him, making him feel invincible. There was just so much of it, each particle more astounding than the last. Surely it was enough to win ten thousand wars without breaking a sweat. And yet, he already craved more. Hungered for it.

Never had another person's energy affected him like this. Not even a vampire's. Bride had to be something more. But what?

"Think you've got me now, do you?" she said, drawing his attention. Now was not the time to bask or ponder. "Think? Silly girl. I know so."

"You should have taken me to the women, like I asked. Now you're going to give me the answers I sought, and a whole lot more, or you'll never see the otherworlder again."

An empty boast, but cute all the same. "I do like your spirit.”

“Then you should love this."

Before his eyes, her body seemed to explode, to break apart, a black mist shooting from where she'd stood. He lost his hold on her and wanted to sob.

"Bride," he called, but the thick mist was moving ... faster ... faster ... swirling together and heading back around the corner.

Once again, Devyn followed her. "Dallas, man, duck!" he shouted, when he saw that she meant to slam into his friend, who was still engaged with Nolan.

As before, Dallas obeyed without hesitation. The mist soared over him. Rather than stop, turn, and go back for him, the mist continued to move forward, surrounding Nolan. Still swirling, now thickening. Dallas fired his weapon, but the beams darted straight through and hit the back wall.

Made sense. There was nothing to absorb it.

"Bride, don't touch him. He's infected. You could die. Bride!" The mist never ceased whirling. Never even slowed. Wind velocity increased, dancing his hair around his head. With it came a desperation he didn't understand, a fury he did, and a sense of excitement he couldn't deny.

Nolan tried to beat his way free, but the mist held tight, raising him up, a tornado that couldn't be stopped, and freezing him as Devyn and Dallas had been unable.

"What should we do?" Dallas rasped in his ear. "What the hell should we do? I don't even know what the hell is happening."

He had no answer. And then, it didn't matter. The mist—and Nolan—arrowed forward, out of the alley and around the corner, not even a red glow remaining.

Bride was gone.

Devyn tossed his goggles to the ground, his heart pounding like a racehorse in his chest. I lost. I really lost.

"We have to find her," Dallas said, his tone grave. "Before Nolan seduces her, and she becomes a carrier of his disease."

"We will." Devyn gazed at the wall Bride had stepped from and almost rubbed his hands together. Game on, he thought.

CHAPTER 4

Bride released the otherworlder from her swirling hold the moment she had him inside the cell she'd erected in her apartment. She'd had to leave her only window open so that she could soar through it, as well as the cage door swung wide, because she couldn't ghost through solid objects. Then she spun around his waist until everything emptied from his pockets, lifted his wallet just as she'd lifted his body, and darted out of the cell, spinning so that a breeze shut the metal bars, locking them. The wallet fell to the ground as she stilled and forced her body to piece itself back together, each drop of moisture expanding, forming some part of her, bonding to another, and solidifying.

When her feet touched the cold concrete floor, her knees buckled and she dropped. Air gushed from her lungs, and her bones rattled. She ached, God, did she ache. Her blood was thick, sluggish, her muscles shaky and weak. Black dots wove through her vision, creating a tunnel-like effect. As excited as she'd been to have finally found Devyn, she'd been battling the fires and the thorns all day; her chest, already raw, now felt like it had been scraped with a blade, doused with acid, and used as a punching bag.

"Who are you?" the man asked from behind her, clearly nearing panic. "What are you?"

She didn't have the strength to stand. Didn't even have the strength to angle her head and glance back at him. This always happened. Anytime she broke herself down to the equivalent of a puddle of water and then fit herself back together, she lost days of her life, unable to do anything but lay where she landed.

And weak as she'd been lately, it would probably take her longer to recover. Oh, well. It had been worth it. The shock on Devyn's face when he'd realized who stood before him... the stuff of dreams. She almost, almost, managed a laugh.

"While I like the view, could you maybe face me?" Thankfully, he was calming down, breathing in and out, relaxing. "I'd like to see the face of my rescuer, say thank you ... maybe talk to you about releasing me from the cage? I have money. I can pay you."

Of course he liked the view. Of course he was calming. She was naked. While she could camouflage her skin and hair to look like the things around her, she hadn't yet learned how to manipulate her clothing. Which meant she had to do all her hunting bare-assed as the day she was born. If she'd been born the traditional way, that is. How the hell were vampires created? By draining humans and then feeding them tainted blood?

You're veering. Stupid weakness. "Already have... your wallet," she managed to work past the swollenness of her throat. The syn-leather was inches from her hand, and far enough away from the cage that he wouldn't be able to reach it. "Food. Drinks. For you." There was also a small basin of precious, very expensive water, but she'd wanted him to have everything he needed for survival while she recovered. "You'll be ... fine."

"Thanks, truly, but that's not enough for me. I need a woman." There was a ring of desperation in his tone now. "I need sex."

That's what he'd told Devyn. That without a woman, he would die. Well, too bad. She wasn't sleeping with him. He's infected, Devyn had shouted. You could die. The thought didn't scare her; she'd never been sick a day in her life. Over the years, disease after disease had struck the people around her, but never her. She'd never even sneezed. But while she didn't fear for herself, she wouldn't allow the man to sleep with someone else, either, spreading his illness.

How, then, was she to keep him alive if he was telling the truth? "Take care ... of... yourself.”

“I would, but it doesn't work that way."

"Why ... not?" She blinked until her eyes remained shut. Stay awake. You can do it. Slowly she pried her lids apart. Her irises burned.

Silence. Lulling, drugging silence. Beckoning her to sleep. Sweet sleep. Still she resisted. Then, "Please. Just let me out!" The bars rattled. He must be shaking them.

"Not yet." So badly she wanted to return to the alley, taunt Devyn for what she'd taken from him, demand answers about vampires, and finally learn what the bastard knew about Aleaha.

That would have to wait, though. Either he'd find her, or she'd find him when she was able to move again. Until then ... Her lashes fused together, practically glued this time. A shallow breath shuddered from her, taking the rest of her energy with it. Sweet sleep, she thought again. She couldn't fight it any longer. Didn't want to fight it, really. As always, she would dream of her friend and the carefree summers they'd once shared.

But as her mind drifted into slumber, it wasn't Aleaha who claimed center stage. For once, it was a man. Devyn— wild, wicked, and wanton. A smug grin lifted his lips—just as it had when he'd frozen her in place and assumed victory was his. He gazed at her with lust in his eyes, reaching for her, determined to possess her, body and soul...

Devyn pounded back his third single malt, neat. He and Dallas had waited in that dirty alley until backup finally arrived. Twenty damn minutes after Nolan had been captured. Part of him had expected Bride to return, to taunt him a little more and demand the answers she'd once sought from him. She hadn't.

Now, twenty-four hours later, a group of them were at the house of Jaxon, one of the richest guys in the new world, gorging on his food, emptying his liquor cabinet, and trying to decide on the best course of action.

"—telling you, she came out of the wall and looked like one big painted brick," Dallas was saying. "Then she was naked, and yeah, you should want to kill yourself for not seeing those curves, and then she exploded but didn't die. No, I didn't see that part, but Devyn told me all about it. She even turned into a storm cloud of wrath and wrapped around Nolan before disappearing completely."

"I had the artist at AIR headquarters do a sketch of her." Devyn drained his glass and refilled it. He didn't stop at two fingers, but gave himself the entire hand before reaching into his pocket and withdrawing a mini-console. The small black box looked like nothing more than a miniature keyboard. But after he keyed in the proper code, a blue light seeped upward, forming a flat, steady square.

Colors began to weave through the azure—peach, black, green, red. A female form took shape. And then Bride was there, as lovely as he remembered and ripe for the plucking. Her baffling level of kinetic energy wasn't visible and that was a shame. Or maybe not. The agents might have become as obsessed with her as he feared he was becoming.

After all, he'd spent the last day thinking of nothing but her. He wanted to know where she was, what she was doing, and exactly how long she could resist if he laid on the charm.

"She's nude." Dallas leaned forward, elbows propped on the kitchen table—despite the fact that it was made of real mahogany and he was rude as shit—for a closer inspection.

"Of course she's nude, dummy. That's the last outfit I saw her wearing. Anyway, that woman, our new target, is a vampire, and her name is Bride."

Macy Briggs choked on her beer, and her boy toy— new agent and otherworlder Breean—slapped at her back, his expression concerned.

"Vampire?" Mia said when she quieted. "Those actually exist?"

"What, you think someone's imagination was rich enough to create them on their own?" Normally such a smooth-as-silk voice would have been enough to send blood rushing south, thickening and hardening his cock. Today only those thoughts of Bride could do so. She'd bested him. Actually bested him. Last person to do so had been his father. Well, and Eden. Oh, yeah. And Bride, first time they'd met. Still.

He wasn't gonna let it happen again. Game on, he thought once more. She wanted to play, then they would play.

He would use every sensual weapon at his disposal. He would show no mercy. He couldn't. Besting that little she-devil might just be the greatest challenge of his life. She was smart—she'd found him. She was powerful—she could do that misting thing. And she wanted nothing to do with him sexually—a lie, surely. He was desirable, damn it.