“He’s all yours.” Raphael shoved the man toward him.

  “What’s he talking about?” The thief’s eyes widened at the implications.

  “I would think that would be obvious,” Michael said, a second before his fangs extended.

  “No!” the man bellowed. “Stay away from me.” His gaze darted to Raphael. “Kill me like a man, not like an animal.”

  Raphael turned away.

  The thief tried to scramble up a nearby dune, but Michael stopped him by mentally lifting him off his feet and bringing him back. From the fear in his eyes, Michael could see it had finally dawned on him just how large a mistake he and his friends had made by attacking them.

  The familiar length of his fangs tickled his tongue as Michael licked them in anticipation. The sensation sent delicious gooseflesh dancing along his spine. He angled the man’s neck, while keeping his arms pinned to his sides. His mouth watered as he sank his fangs into the thief’s pulsing vein and feasted.

  He was yummy. Michael had expected something less appetizing from his worn appearance.

  He would’ve bitten him elsewhere if he’d wanted the man to live, but Michael didn’t. As he drank, Michael watched Catherine’s expression change from one of curiosity to out-and-out revulsion.

  Her red hair was tousled from the fight and her clothes were covered in sand. She was sweating and out of breath, but still mustered enough energy to convey her disgust.

  Michael waited to make sure he had her undivided attention, then he smiled, allowing the blood to dribble down his chin onto his shirt. The coppery sweetness stuck to his skin, teasing his nostrils with its heavenly scent.

  Normally he wasn’t what one would call a messy eater—far from it actually—but Michael hadn’t been able to resist the urge to rattle her. He wanted to scare Catherine off before she could take Raphael away from him.

  He liked having her off balance. It was better to keep her that way until he figured out what was behind the disorienting stunt she’d pulled earlier.

  Catherine watched for a few more seconds, eyes rounded and mouth gaping, then slowly turned away. Raphael reached for her, but she jerked out of his grasp.

  “Leave me alone,” she said and kept walking. Catherine didn’t look back as she disappeared into the night.

  “Catherine, where are you going?” Raphael frowned like a child who’d lost his favorite toy.

  How Michael wished that were true, but he’d never been that lucky. He considered the woman threatening to come between him and his brother.

  He pictured the blood running down his chin. With the vision clearly in his head, Michael closed his eyes and sent a thought slamming into her mind.

  Welcome to the family, Catherine Meyers.

  Chaos couldn’t seem to get the picture of blood dripping down Michael’s chin out of her mind. Every time she tried it came back in even more vivid detail, along with Michael’s sinister welcome. She had no problem killing if the situation called for it, but she didn’t take joy in the act. Not like he did.

  She could see it in his black eyes. They’d sparkled as he’d drained the man in front of her. He’d enjoyed it. Reveled in the act of killing.

  The whole thing had been performed like some twisted dance with Michael as the star. He’d wanted to shock her and it worked. She was shocked—not by the death, but by the method.

  Sure, Raphael was a vampire. And yes, he’d killed, too, but she hadn’t seen the same gleam of satisfaction in his eyes. Raphael had killed because he had to. Yes, he’d drank from one of the men, but it had come more from hunger and control than from pleasure. He didn’t get off by sucking people dry.

  Chaos stopped walking. Was she rationalizing Raphael’s actions? Possibly, but she hadn’t mistaken the joy she’d seen on Michael’s face. Killing was second nature to him. He loved it and he was very, very good at it.

  She wondered if Raphael had seen the gleam in his brother’s eyes, or had he been too blinded by love and devotion to notice? Was this the fate that ultimately awaited Red and Morgan?

  He could have Morgan on a platter if it made him happy. Let Michael snack on him or take him back to Roark, but she wouldn’t let him have Red. Gina was hers to return safely to IPTT. The sooner Michael Travers Vega accepted that, the better.

  He saved your life, a little voice in Chaos’ head reminded her. It knocked the self-righteous indignation right out of her system. Michael had saved her from being choked to death, when he didn’t have to bother.

  Was she being too hard on him? Maybe she’d misjudged him just as she’d done with Raphael when they first met. Let’s face it—when she tried to kill him. Was she any better than they were?

  Chaos had killed without mercy in Nuria. It had been under Roark Montgomery’s compulsion, but she had carried out the murders. Suddenly the answers weren’t nearly as clear as they’d been a moment ago.

  Raphael watched Catherine until she disappeared. Her shoulders were stiff and she held her head high. Waves of anger and disgust radiated off her tiny frame.

  He’d warned her that Michael was a dangerous man and now she finally believed him. He should be relieved that the blinders had been removed from her naive eyes. So why did he feel like shit?

  He turned back to Michael, who finished drinking, then dropped the dead man onto the ground.

  “Good to the last drop.” He smacked his lips for emphasis.

  “Why did you do that?” Raphael asked. His brother had never been a messy eater. He was fastidious by nature. Dripping the blood had been for show.

  “Do what?” Michael asked innocently.

  Raphael’s eyes narrowed. “Play with your food,” he said in disgust. “You turned into a movie cliché. Since when do you waste blood by letting it run on the ground?”

  “Oh that.” Michael shrugged. “I thought she should know what we really are, not what we present to the world,” he said. “Catherine needed to experience the truth firsthand and not romanticize it.” The censorious look he sent Raphael said everything.

  Raphael’s jaw clenched. “She already knows. Shocking her was overkill, but then again, you know that. You smelled me on her. You know I’ve tasted her. Hell, you’ve seen my mark on her neck.”

  “Yes, but you’re a seducer. You make sure your prey is relaxed before you feed,” Michael said.

  Raphael flinched. His brother made him sound so callous, so calculating. He’d cared about the women he’d bedded. Perhaps not deeply, but he had cared…as much as he was able. He’d never given anyone his heart. Had no desire to.

  Til now, echoed in his mind.

  Michael sighed as if the conversation bored him. “I don’t want to see you get your heart broken by a woman who can’t handle a little blood.”

  Raphael stiffened. What did he mean by that crack? His heart wasn’t in any danger of being broken by Catherine. A myriad of emotions filled him. Raphael opened his mouth to issue a denial, but the words tangled in his throat and came out sounding like a snarl.

  “What is she anyway?” Michael wiped the blood off his face with the back of his sleeve. “I don’t sense Other in her.”

  “I told you, she’s unique.” Raphael thought of Catherine’s smart mouth and fiery temper. He’d kiss that mouth right now if she’d let him. Thoughts of Catherine took his mind off the glee he’d seen on Michael’s face as he’d killed the men.

  Raphael had never enjoyed killing, but he’d accepted that it had to be done on occasion. What he’d witnessed moments ago had frightened him more than any surprise attack.

  “Your pet almost knocked me on my ass when she was attacked,” Michael said. “My head wouldn’t stop spinning. I’ve never felt that kind of power from anyone.”

  “It’s why they call her Chaos at IPTT. She’s like a microburst waiting to descend,” Raphael said. “I’m not sure she even knows where her power comes from or how to control it completely. We haven’t discussed it in detail. We’ve had more important things on our minds.”

  Raphael was already losing interest in the conversation. He didn’t want Catherine to wander too far ahead of them. What if another predator came upon her? His heart had nearly stopped when he had seen that thief go for her throat. If it hadn’t been for Michael, she’d be dead.

  “I have to go after her.” Raphael gathered his gear. “Thank you for saving her life.”

  Michael snorted. “She really has you wrapped around her finger, doesn’t she? Do you ask how high when she says jump?”

  Raphael stilled, his hands clenched at his sides. He had the overwhelming urge to punch his brother in the face. “What are you implying?”

  Michael toyed with the strap on his pack. “There was a time when this woman would’ve been falling at your feet, trying to figure out ways to please you. Not the other way around. She has you bowing and scraping before her.”

  He scoffed. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Raphael said.

  “Don’t I?” Michael asked. “When we met up, you implied Catherine wasn’t special. You let me believe you’d get rid of her once you grew tired of her company. But that’s not going to happen. Is it, brother?”

  Raphael’s body tensed. Through the years he’d been an ass to a lot of women. Oh, he’d left them satisfied. He wouldn’t have been able to call himself a man otherwise, but he’d still used them. Sometimes for shelter, other times for sex, but mostly he’d used them for blood like Michael implied.

  A woman in the throes of passion tasted better than anything on the planet. He should know—he’d sampled a veritable smorgasbord.

  It wasn’t until he’d met Red that Raphael realized something was missing. She was so strong and powerful, yet naively vulnerable. The wolf inside her was beyond alluring.

  He’d made his move on her and she’d been tempted, very tempted, but in the end Red had turned Raphael down. Her heart belonged to another. The rejection had hurt, but he’d respected her all the more for it. That’s when Raphael knew for sure she was the right woman for Morgan.

  The trouble was that now he wanted more. The thought of a quick roll on the rest pad for blood and sex had left him cold. The afternoon he’d made love to Catherine had turned his world upside down. She’d brought him to life, when Raphael hadn’t known he was dead inside.

  Catherine, and only Catherine, had filled the emptiness swallowing him whole. He couldn’t lose her. It had taken too many years to find her.

  His gaze returned to his brother. “Times change, Michael. And so do people. You should know that better than anyone. Now I’m going to walk away before I say something I truly regret,” Raphael said.

  Michael’s lip curled in disgust. “I do know better, brother. I’m staring at the proof and it nauseates me. You’ve gone from a proud warrior to a groveling snit. You should see yourself.”

  “You just don’t get it, do you?” Raphael shook his head and felt a pang of regret.

  Michael never would understand what it felt like to give his heart to another. To want to be with that person as much as possible because the time apart made you ache.

  No, his brother would never understand. He was too caught up in the chase, in the kill. It was all a game to him. To be won at all costs.

  “I’d better go find her before she gets lost,” Raphael said softly.

  “Do you want me to bring her back?” Michael’s tone implied he’d be perfectly happy to let her wander the desert forever. “It would be quite easy to lift her. It’s not like she weighs a lot. Might even be funny to see the look on her face, when invisible hands pick her up and carry her over the dunes.” He chortled.

  Raphael glanced over his shoulder. “Thanks, but I think I can handle it.” He looked at his brother. Really looked at him. He ignored the bloodstained skin and the rumpled clothing. Looked past them to the face beneath the civil mask. His true face.

  Michael wasn’t the same man Raphael had known and loved a lifetime ago. The years of torture and the assassinations he’d performed had eaten away at his humanity and changed him. The question was into what?

  Chapter 20

  Red awoke to a callused hand covering her mouth. She struggled until her eyes managed to focus in the predawn light. Morgan stood over her with his finger pressed to his lips. She nodded in understanding and he released her.

  She stood, trying not to make a sound. The group had been drinking and partying all night. They’d only stopped as dawn approached.

  Demery had stayed close to Reaper and his blood for most of the night. He’d pulled out the metal deck she’d seen him playing with at the Sand Mole compound and gambled until she couldn’t hold her eyes open. That was the last Red had seen of them. She scanned the area, but didn’t immediately spot him.

  Red mouthed, where’s Demery?

  Morgan shook his head and shrugged. He pointed to the mountains, which had turned gray from the fast-approaching dawn. He splayed his fingers and mimicked a running movement.

  “Time to go,” he whispered.

  Everyone appeared to be asleep or passed out from the revelry. Red didn’t see Demery or his white protective suit anywhere. She also didn’t see Reaper or Melea. She leaned in close to Morgan and pressed her lips to his ear.

  “He didn’t get a chance to explain what’s happening.”

  Morgan met her gaze with a sharp one of his own. “He had all night. We gave him every opportunity. At one point, I even cornered him after a game of zigzag quartz. Demery didn’t say a word. He just gave another excuse, then went off to relieve himself behind one of the vehicles.”

  “We can’t just leave him,” Red said. “He wouldn’t leave us.”

  “After what you witnessed last night are you sure?” he asked.

  Red hesitated as she thought about it. “Yes, I am.”

  His brow furrowed. Morgan scrubbed a hand over his face, his frustration evident. “I looked all over, but I couldn’t find him. I don’t like the idea of leaving him any more than you do, but now is our chance to get out of here unscathed and we’re going to take it. Demery is a big boy. He knows these people. He’ll be fine.”

  Red shook her head violently. She wouldn’t leave anyone behind. It had been drilled into her since day one at IPTT.

  “We don’t have time to argue.” Morgan grabbed her arm and tugged her away. “We have to make it to that outpost before anyone else hears about the bounty. Do you really think these people will let us go once they do?”

  Her heart sank. He was right. Red knew Morgan was right. If they didn’t make it to the outpost and try to contact the outside world to warn them about Roark, they could end up dying here in no-man’s-land. Red didn’t want to die in this place.

  “Okay,” she said. “But promise me we’ll come back for Demery when we’re done, if he hasn’t reached the outpost by then.”

  Morgan kissed her. “I promise,” he said. “Now let’s go.”

  They crept out of the campsite as silently as possible. Red’s heart was pounding so hard she doubted she’d hear it if anyone sounded an alarm.

  She expected to see lookouts, but there were none. Their absence spoke volumes about Reaper’s savage reputation. When they got a hundred yards away, they ran for foothills. They reached them within minutes and ascended.

  “I don’t feel right about leaving Demery,” Red said.

  “I know. Keep going,” Morgan said climbing faster.

  “I’m really worried about him,” she said. “What if they kill him when they find out we’re gone?”

  Morgan frowned. It was obvious from his expression that it hadn’t occurred to him. “Why would they do that? The deal he had going with them didn’t have anything to do with us, remember? Demery had been looking for Reaper. It was sheer luck that the Sand Devil’s found us first.”

  “Bad luck,” she muttered.

  Red understood, but she still wasn’t convinced that the mysterious deal was enough to keep him alive. The situation definitely involved Melea, but something told her that they somehow factored into the equation, too. Why or how? Red had no idea. They didn’t have anything to bargain with other than their pistols, and the Sand Devils had plenty of weapons. They didn’t need more.

  Damn it, Demery! You should’ve explained the situation you were in.

  The mountains grew rapidly steeper and Red had to pull herself up to reach the next outcropping of rocks.

  “You doing okay?” Morgan asked. Sweat dripped down his rugged face, leaving his hair curling into his neck. His amber eyes watched her closely as he gave her a leg up here and pulled her up there.

  “I’m fine. Just a little winded. Not used to this altitude. Do you have any idea where we’re going?” Demery was the only one who knew the exact location of the outpost. The thought of wandering around the desert for days, weeks, or months in search of it was decidedly unappealing.

  “The Sand Moles had said it was located southwest of their position. I figure as long as we keep traveling in that direction we’ll run into either it or another group who can help us pin down the location,” he said.

  “Those are a lot of ifs.” Red strained to climb.

  “What choice do we have?” Morgan asked.

  “We could’ve located Demery and found out what was really going on. He’d said we’d be leaving today. I don’t think he meant without him,” she said.

  Morgan sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry. I really tried to find him. I snuck all around that place and didn’t see him or smell him anywhere. The suit would’ve stuck out against the sand if he’d been there. Maybe he went off with one of the women.”

  “Without telling us? Seems unlikely,” she said.

  “Not sure if you noticed, but he wasn’t exactly acting normal once we ran into the Sand Devils.”

  She grasped the rock above her. “It was obvious that it had been awhile since he’d seen his blood, Melea. Maybe he was nervous.”

  “Possibly, but we gave him every opportunity to come clean. Nerves alone do not explain his odd behavior. He was up to something. I don’t know what, but I smelled deception on his skin when he took the protective suit off. Staying in the Sand Devil camp any longer was not in our best interest,” he said. “Now keep climbing.”

 

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