The solar lantern at Doc’s feet cast weak shadows into the solid black surrounding them. A bead of nervous sweat zipped down his spine as the prickle of his sixth sense raised the small hairs on the back of his neck.

‘She’s here,’ he whispered.

Dominic straightened. ‘Where?’

Doc pointed to the faint glow drifting down the corridor. He was counting on Dominic being mesmerized so he could get into position.

‘Doc? You there?’ Fi sounded tinny in the cargo hold’s expanse.

‘Sure ’nuff, baby. Right here. See the light?’

‘Who’s with you?’ Fear edged her voice. Her image emerged as she got closer. She squinted at Dominic.

‘Don’t worry, sweets. Just a … friend. Dominic. Maris’s friend. Remember? We all went to Corvinestri together?’

She scowled. ‘He’s the reason for your curse.’ Suddenly her ghostly image shifted into something freaky scary. Her face flickered between flesh and bone, her skull showing through the flesh, her eyes like burned-out coals. ‘I don’t like him.’

‘It’s okay, Fi. He’s not here to hurt either one of us.’

‘What’s the meaning of this?’ Dominic shifted uneasily. ‘Tell her I want to speak to Maris.’

‘Chill. We’re dealing with a lot of unknowns here, you dig? She’s not quite herself.’ Damn, he was starting to look forward to this. ’Bout time someone took Dominic down a peg.

‘You told me she’d had contact with Maris. I want to talk to her now.’

‘Soon. Be patient. Fi’s got to get through her own stuff first.’ As if on cue, Fi screamed and the thin sound moved him into action. The loop had begun.

From the tangible blackness surrounding her, a skeletal figure attacked, grabbing her.

Dominic grimaced. ‘No wonder Malkolm has such anger. To be left to rot like that … ’

Doc tried not to watch. He’d seen it too many times. Plus, he had work to do. He reached beneath his jacket to the waistband of his jeans and pulled out the syringe.

Her mouth opened in a second scream. The flashlight fell from her hand and landed with the beam pointed at her.

Hands still behind his back, he moved into position behind Dominic and worked the cap off the needle.

Oblivious to Doc’s scheme, Dominic watched with blatant curiosity as Mal’s carcass sank his fangs into Fi’s throat, shredding her flesh like tissue paper. Blood spurted down her front while Mal gorged.

Doc’s anger peaked. With a quick jab, he hammered the syringe into Dominic’s jugular and shoved the plunger down, filling his system with a cocktail of laudanum and colloidal silver. Dominic cried out, spinning to face Doc.

The color seeped out of Fi as she fought.

Dominic’s hand clenched at his neck. He yanked out the needle. ‘What have you done?’ He staggered backward through the loop. His true face erased his human one, but his fangs only descended halfway. He dropped the syringe.

Fi’s punches bounced off Mal’s thin frame. Her feet dangled off the stone floor of the nightmare’s ruins.

Doc pulled out the empty second syringe. ‘I did what I had to. To help Fi.’

Fi went pale as ash.

Dominic fell, his eyes rolling back in his head. ‘Stay away from me. You don’t know what you’re doing.’

‘I know exactly what I’m doing.’

With a groan, Dominic went completely still. Doc got the needle into a vein and pulled the plunger back until the barrel filled with blood. There. Mission accomplished.

Doc looked up. Mal’s image in the loop stared back with hazy eyes. A scrap of skin hung from his withered jaw. Once again, Fi lay dead at his feet.

Time to get moving. Once Dominic came to, Doc would have a target the size of Texas on his back. But the repercussions meant nothing. He pocketed the precious vial and returned the specter’s dead-eyed gaze. ‘Your days are numbered. I’m about to set your captive free.’

Chapter Twenty-one

‘Oh, that’s it. Right there. Harder. Mmm-hmm, get in there.’ Tatiana purred into the massage table’s headrest. Octavian’s hands were miraculous gifts. And she deserved gifts. Especially after what she’d been through.

Holding the guises of the shifter and the fringe had spent her energy reserves and then some, leaving her drained. She’d barely had enough strength to avoid detection at the club when she’d realized the fringe’s body had been discovered. Changing back into the shifter’s form had almost caused her to black out, but surviving until sundown had become her singular focus.

Now, back in the safety of the estate Octavian had secured and with twelve comatose hours of daysleep behind her, the time had come to make new plans.

She could have killed Malkolm, but she needed him to get to the comarré. The ring was close. Tatiana could feel it as clearly as she could feel Octavian’s glorious fingers kneading the muscles along her spine, working their way down to her tailbone.

‘Delicious,’ she whispered. ‘Don’t stop.’

‘I won’t, my lady.’ His thumbs worked in slow circles, eliciting soft cries of pleasure from her.

A darker male scent invaded past the neroli oil Octavian used. She opened her eyes as a pair of masculine feet came into view. Nasir. ‘I thought I was the only one who got you to make those sounds.’

Like most men, Nasir was prone to childish bouts of jealousy. Not that Octavian’s hands on her naked body were any of his concern. She was an Elder. Her actions were not Nasir’s to judge. Nor would she indulge his emotions. Not now. ‘What news from the Nothos?’




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