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Hunted


“But …” Raphael said, and his expression said there definitely was a but.


“Boy’s got a problem with women,” Lucas admitted. “Doesn’t mind fucking ’em—” He shot the two women a guilty look, and said, “Sorry, ladies.”


“We’re both familiar with the word,” Kathryn said dryly. “But how is it possible that you hung out with someone who doesn’t like women?”


Lucas grinned and flashed her a lascivious wink. “I told you, he doesn’t mind bedding them, and there was never a shortage of volunteers for the job. But other than that … he thinks they’re beneath him, and that that’s where they belong.”


“Hmmm,” Kathryn said thoughtfully. “Sounds like bad mommy syndrome. I guess we should be glad he’s only a vampire instead of a serial killer.” She paused a beat. “Oh wait, they’re the same thing.”


Cyn started laughing, and Kathryn joined in, the two of them high-fiving. They looked over at their respective vampire lovers, wanting to share the joke, and found the two of them staring back blank-faced. Which only made the two women laugh harder.


“An FBI agent, Lucas? Really?” Raphael said grimly.


“Oh, right,” Lucas drawled. “Because yours stays home and bakes cookies all night.”


Cyn looked up from wiping tears from her eyes. “Hey! I can bake cookies.”


That only earned her a disbelieving scowl from Raphael, which threatened to set her off again. He shook his head and turned back to Lucas.


“Where is Aden now?”


“In St. Louis, but he can be here tomorrow.”


“All right. I’ll meet him as favor to you.”


“Thank you, Sire,” Lucas said, leaping gracefully to his feet. “In the meantime, this house is yours. Kathryn and I will stay at the homestead, and I’ll tell Aden to meet us out there tomorrow. It’s more discreet.”


“That’s acceptable,” Raphael said. “But, Lucas,” he added, his voice going cold and deadly, “once that’s done, we’re going to find out who was after us and why. Because, if there’s to be a hunt, I intend to be the hunter, not the hunted.”


Chapter Four


Cyn waited while Raphael sealed the elevator door behind them, then turned and eyed the well-appointed bedroom.


“This isn’t Lucas’s and Kathryn’s bedroom, is it?”


“No,” Raphael replied, dropping his leather jacket on the back of a chair. “This is a guest room. Would it matter?”


“Yes,” she said emphatically. “I don’t like sleeping in someone else’s bedroom.”


“You slept in mine.”


“Back in the day,” she clarified, moving restlessly around the room.


He laughed. “It wasn’t that long ago.”


“Just feels like it,” she said absently.


“Should I be insulted or flattered?”


“Take your pick.”


“Cynthia,” Raphael said. He didn’t use her full name very often. She looked at him. “What’s wrong?” he asked.


She studied him a long moment, then said, “What’s the situation, Raphael? When you were talking to Lucas,” she clarified, when he gave her a puzzled frown. “You said something about how he understood the situation. Well, I want to understand it, too. What is it?”


“Ah.”


Cyn watched him intently, holding her breath as she waited to see what his next words would be. Would he answer her question? Or would he deflect it with casual humor, or even sex?


He picked up his jacket from the chair and hung it in the closet, then sat down. Her lungs squeezed hard enough to become a physical pain in her chest when he lifted his black-eyed gaze and said, “Sit with me, lubimaya.”


“I can stand.”


“Please.”


She eyed him doubtfully, her lips flattened against the emotions clogging her throat. But he’d said “please,” which he rarely did, so she walked over. She intended to sit on the opposite chair, but Raphael had other plans. He snagged her hand and tumbled her onto his lap, holding her there when she would have gotten up.


“Raphael. I’m serious.”


“I know that. I’m ensuring that you can’t get away until I finish speaking.”


“Is it that bad?” she whispered, her chest so tight she could barely draw breath for the words.

“It is very serious, and, yes, it is bad, though I suspect not the way you mean it.”


“Just tell me,” she demanded, unable to stand the stress.


“You are aware that I’ve been gathering allies lately, beginning with Rajmund, although, of course, my relationship with Lucas is far older.”


“I’ve had my suspicions.”


“So have others, although no one but a select few understand my true motives. My enemies assume I’m trying to take over all of North America, that I’m setting puppets on the thrones of the other territories so that I may rule through them.”


“I don’t believe that. It’s something else, but I don’t know what.”


“This is the most critical of secrets, my Cyn. It cannot be shared with anyone.”


“So, why tell me now?”


“Because I nearly lost you to a secret, and nothing—no secret, no person—is more important to me than you.”


The tears rolled down her cheeks. Tears of relief that he wasn’t going to lie to her, and of love at the raw emotion in his words. She leaned against his broad chest, resting her head on his shoulder.


“Don’t cry,” he murmured, holding her close. “Listen, and tell me what you think.”


She nodded wordlessly.


“The threat is not on this continent, but in Europe. There are many very old vampires there, vampires who were alive long before I was turned, and who’ve survived by being both wily and powerful. They rule territories in Europe, as we do here. But the territories are small and crowded because these old vampires made too many children in years past, when a vampire was judged by such things.


“This overpopulation has created a large number of strong and ambitious younger vampires who have nowhere to go. They no longer wish to serve under the yoke of their masters, but there are not enough open territories—or at least not enough with lords who can be handily defeated—and no unsettled lands for them to move into.”


“They want to come here,” Cyn said, stunned with the realization as she sat up and stared at him.


He nodded. “They look at North America and see eight vampire lords ruling a vast amount of territory. They assume that makes us weak, that no one vampire is strong enough to rule so much, and they think to replace us with their own number. Not one vampire for a territory, but several. Not eight vampire lords for all of North America, but twenty-five or thirty.”


“And what about you? What about the others? Do they really think they can take you all on and win?”


“I am not privy to their strategy or thoughts, only their ultimate goal.”


“So what are we going to do about it?” she demanded.


Raphael smiled and hugged her close. “My fierce Cyn. Our first order of business is to continue as we have, to ensure the ascension of vampires we can trust, who will fight with us, and who are capable of consolidating and defending their territories should it come to a war. Which is why the selection of Aden is so important.”


“But you don’t know him.”


“I know Lucas, and while he may seem like someone who doesn’t take life seriously, the reality is quite different. When it comes to survival, Lucas is deadly serious. He also happens to be an excellent judge of others. He tells me it’s a side effect of his being a people person,” he added, grimacing in such distaste that Cyn had to laugh despite the seriousness of the subject.


“The talent probably lies in the opposite direction,” she assured him. “He’s a con artist, which means he has to understand his victims. It’s the same skill, just applied differently.”


“Did I ever tell you how Lucas and I met?”


Cyn frowned at what seemed like a non sequitur. “No,” she said.


“He thought to pick my pocket, or more likely to steal my purse. Either way, his so-called people skills failed him quite spectacularly.”


“I’m surprised you let him live.”


Raphael shrugged. “I saw something in him, something I thought I could use.”


“Were you right?”


It was Raphael’s turn to laugh. “Oh, yes. He was a challenge, but ultimately well worth the effort.”


“If you say so. Kathryn seems to like him anyway.”


“Speaking of Kathryn, remember, you cannot share any of this with her. If Lucas chooses to confide in her, that is his choice, but we cannot afford to let our enemies know that we know they’re coming. This is not a topic for your Mates Club.”


“You know about that?”


“Sweet Cyn,” he said, patting her ass affectionately, “I know about everything. You should understand that by now.”


Chapter Five


The next day found Cyn urging her horse up the final rise to the top of a hill, and thinking ruefully that the pretty little bay mare probably didn’t need her help, or her urging. No doubt the horse was far more familiar with this trail than Cyn was.


She’d been impressed earlier with Lucas’s stable of horses. For that matter, she’d been impressed with his stable. Cyn had been raised with money and privilege, and most of her friends growing up had been likewise fortunate. When she’d told Kathryn she’d had riding lessons all through her youth, she’d been telling the truth. She’d been taught by the very best instructors at the most exclusive stables that California and, ultimately, Europe, had to offer.


But even with that background, Lucas’s stables were amongst the finest she’d seen, especially in private hands. Horses weren’t cheap, not to feed, not to stable, and not to care for. But it was obvious that Lucas did all three and spared no expense.

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