“I suppose you’re above the law,” she snapped, yanking open the door to her truck. It wasn’t going to start; she knew it wouldn’t. It never started first time out.
He moved then, a ripple of muscle, but he was standing beside her, crowding her body with his superior height, the heat from his skin causing her bloodstream to catch fire. He seemed to glide across the ground, as silent as any cat, his attention fixed on her with the same intensity as a jungle beast hunting night prey.
“We have a code of honor my family lives by. That is the law that binds me.” He touched her hair with his fingertips, drew strands of fine silk into his palm almost as if he were mesmerized. “Have you ever felt your hair? Really felt it? It is truly beautiful.”
She stood there, afraid to move or speak, her body restless with unfamiliar demands. As hard as she could, she gripped the door of the truck, needing something solid. “I have to get home to my brother and sister.” Colby wasn’t entirely certain, at that moment, whether she was asking his permission or not. He was that potent, that powerful.
His perfectly straight white teeth flashed. There in the darkness he seemed a lord of the night. His realm. Invincible.
“Miss?” The voice was soft, but it pulled Colby out of her mesmerized state. She spun around to see a young woman standing hesitantly near them. “Do you need help?”
Colby recognized her as the new waitress, only because she was a stranger in a small town filled with people Colby knew very well. She didn’t once look at Rafael, even when there was a small surge of power and Colby knew he was influencing the woman to walk away.
Rafael reached out and settled his fingers around Colby’s arm.
You wouldn’t want anyone to get hurt.
The woman turned her head then and focused wholly on Rafael. “You could try to hurt me,” she said, as if he’d spoken aloud to her, “but you’d get more than you bargained for. If you try to hurt her, I’ll find a way to make you pay.”
Colby looked at the woman’s face. She was young, but her eyes were old. A startling green, almost sea green, deep and fathomless. “Thank you,” Colby said, meaning it. “I can handle him. He’s from Brazil where women fall at his feet all the time. It’s shocking to him that I don’t. I’m Colby Jansen, by the way.”
Rafael’s fingers tightened on Colby, but he was watching the other woman with a dark, disturbing look. Colby was suddenly frightened for her.
“Maybe I’ll see you around, Colby,” the woman said. She turned and walked slowly away without giving out her name.
“She heard you,” Colby said. “When you spoke, telepathically, she heard you. In my life, you and your brother were the first people I ever met who were like me. Now there’s this woman. Isn’t that such a strange coincidence?”
“I don’t believe in coincidence,” Rafael said. His hand slid from her arm as he stared after the other woman.
Colby felt a sharp tug of jealousy. It was unreasonable, stupid—it possibly bordered on insane and plain made her mad at herself. She wanted away from Rafael De La Cruz more than anything. She ducked into the cab, clutching the steering wheel for support. The truck
would
start.
Absolutely
would start. She took a deep breath and turned the key. The starter made its usual grinding protest. She stared hard at it, determined that it would start. Nothing defied Colby Jansen in this mood. The engine turned over and she revved it carefully, a swift, triumphant smile crossing her face. She couldn’t help but glance at him smugly as she backed out of the lot and headed home.
Rafael watched thoughtfully as the old rickety pickup disappeared around the corner. The sudden surge of power vibrating in the air as she started the engine had been impossible to miss. Had she known what she was doing? Colby Jensen was unique among humans. She possessed qualities, talents he had
not expected. There had been rumors that his family was not completely isolated. He had heard, although none of them had ever really believed until Riordan had found his lifemate, that there were human women possessing certain rare gifts that deemed them lifemates to the males of his race. Colby not only was telepathic, but she could do a variety of other things as well. And who was the mystery woman who would have challenged his authority over Colby? Friend or enemy?
Rafael and his four brothers were immortal. From their home in the Carpathian Mountains, they had gone willingly to South America when it was a wild, lawless land plagued by vampires, far from their homeland and their kin. The ancestors of the present-day Chevez family had eventually been chosen to run their vast estates during the daylight hours. In exchange, the De La Cruz brothers provided protection and wealth for those members of the Chevez family who remained loyal to them. In the intervening years, Rafael had certainly hunted countless vampires, males of his race who had deliberately chosen the darkness and had become wholly evil.
He glanced around the parking lot, blurred his image so that the few stragglers wouldn’t see him, and, with the ease of long practice, launched himself skyward. Shape-shifting on the wing, he circled once and then flew across the night sky. Colby Jansen was unlike anything he had ever experienced. It was the first time in his long life he could remember being uncertain how to proceed. Emotions were new and raw, colors were vivid and blinding, his body was alive and crawled with relentless sexual hunger. It was amazing to be in her company, to have her in his world. He wanted to spend every moment with her, yet he could not control her as he did everything and everybody in his realm of existence.
But I will.
He sent that thought winging ahead of him into the night. A promise. A need. A vow.
Colby hung on grimly to the steering wheel, her mind in total chaos. Something was very, very wrong with Rafael De La Cruz. He certainly was the epitome of the Latin charmer. He could knock off a woman’s socks at fifty paces. Everything about him screamed sin and sex. She muttered unladylike
imprecations under her breath. She was a practical woman, certainly not someone easily swayed by physical attraction. This man was turning on the charm to get his way. He wanted Paul and Ginny and with them, their ranch. He was ruthless enough to use any method possible to get what he wanted.
Colby groaned aloud. She certainly showed him she was totally susceptible to his sex appeal. She’d acted just like every other female in a hundred-mile radius, throwing herself at him. She glanced in the mirror to see if her face was shiny crimson with shame. For a split second she saw eyes staring back at her. Inky black. Unblinking. Icy cold. The eyes of a merciless hunter. In the depths of those staring eyes were wicked red flames flickering and growing. The gaze was fixed on her; she was prey, helpless and weak in the face of such relentless strength.
Colby’s heart slammed hard and loud. She nearly cranked the wheel to the side of the road as she twisted around to look behind her seat into the bed of the pickup. There was nothing there. She had seen those red flames before, felt the shiver of fear, of apprehension. A wind was whipping up out of the mountains, hitting her face through the open window, an ominous portent of things to come.
Resolutely she pressed the gas pedal down, bumping along, the springs on the seat squeaking in tune to the radio she had blasting. As hard as she tried, Colby couldn’t stop herself from continually checking the rearview mirror for those merciless eyes. She had enough to worry about without seeing things. So many little things had gone wrong on the ranch lately—Pete’s disappearance when she needed an extra hand so desperately, the balloon payment due on the mortgage, and the South American group showing up out of nowhere demanding the children. She swept a hand through her hair, shoving it away from her face. The wind blew the silken strands right back at her.
Something was terribly wrong at the ranch. She knew it, she
felt
it, but how could she make Ben understand she just knew things? Like the plane crash. She had known the moment it was in trouble. She had known the moment her mother died. She had been the one to find the wreckage, knowing her beloved stepfather was clinging to life and waiting for her. How could
she explain how she knew things? How could she explain to anyone the things she could do?
For a moment wild emotion welled up out of nowhere, blindsiding her, unexpected when she was so careful to be controlled. She felt tears burning in her eyes, her throat tight, her chest like stone. Loneliness hit her hard. She was so alone, so lonely. There was no one with whom she could ever share who and what she was. Colby fought desperately to control the burning in her chest. She didn’t dare lose control, wouldn’t lose control. It could be dangerous, very, very dangerous.
The dirt road leading to her ranch loomed up, the gate closed and locked. She glanced around the lonely area just once, ensuring she was completely alone. Slowing the truck, Colby leaned out the window and stared intently at the padlock and heavy chain wrapped around the gate. It trembled once, then fell open. The gate swung inward, clearing the path for her. With her ragged fingernail she tapped a rhythm out on the rusted door as she pulled the truck forward. She leaned out of the window to concentrate on locking the gate behind her, thankful she had certain useful talents. It came in handy in the rain and on nights she was just too tired to pretend she was normal.
The wind washed over her again and she felt eyes on her. The scent of a hunter. Something, someone was out in the darkness and it had turned its attention to her. Perhaps it was the disturbance of power in the air when she used her strange talents that drew unwanted attention in her direction. Colby only knew something was very wrong, and evil stalked her family. She was the only protection Paul and Ginny had. She loved them and she would guard them fiercely. From anyone.
Anything.
With a sigh she drove the rest of the distance to the ranch house. Ginny’s dog, King, a border collie, rushed out barking a greeting. She rested her head against the steering wheel for a moment trying to absorb the vibrations in the night sky. What was out there, close, watching her ranch, marking her family? Why couldn’t she isolate the direction it was coming from? She knew something was watching, yet she couldn’t pinpoint the trouble. Colby knew things. She knew the cow in the barn was going to give birth soon and it wasn’t going to be an easy
birth. She knew when it was going to rain and just how long she had to get the hay out of the fields.
Patting the dog, she made her way to the porch. Paul was waiting for her, on the porch swing. His long, lanky frame was stretched out, his hat pulled low over his eyes. His arms were folded across his chest. Colby stood there looking down at him, love for him welling up inside of her. He was an amazing brother. He looked so young and vulnerable when he was asleep. Colby touched his shoulder gently.
Paul woke with a start. “I was just resting my eyes,” he said, his grin lighting his face as he pushed back his hat with his thumb. He had seen the gesture in a western movie and had copied it ever since. He had been about seven and Colby didn’t have the heart to remind him of its origins. In any case she found it endearing.
“Joclyn Everett is a very nice woman, Paul. I’ve met her husband, of course, many times, but never her. What do you think of them?”
His sigh was audible in the silence of the night. “What I think is that you told this woman you would take on her kid for riding lessons even though you are totally swamped. That’s what I think, Colby.”
Colby rubbed her forehead, avoiding his eyes. “Well, the girl is Ginny’s age and Ginny gets very lonely.”
“Colby, you can’t do it. You’re running yourself into the ground already. Don’t you think I know you’re staying up half the night already? You can’t take on any more.”
“They’re offering good money, Paulo, and Ginny needs a friend. I thought I could spend a short period each lesson with the girl and then let Ginny take over. It shouldn’t really take that much time.”
Paul groaned aloud. “You really are crazy, Colby, but there’s never any good arguing with you.” He held open the door. “I checked the stock, made the rounds so you can hit the sack.”
She flashed him a quick smile. “Thanks, Paul. I am tired tonight.” She leaned over to kiss his cheek. “I appreciate it, I really do.”
“I’d give you a lecture,” he said, “but I kind of like Sean Everett. Since he’s a neighbor, we might as well become
friends with him.” Colby burst out laughing, the sound soft and quite catching. Paul found himself with a big smile on his face.
“You’re only saying that because you want another victim to rope into fixing our broken-down equipment.”
“Are you accusing me of having an ulterior motive?” He did his best to look innocent.
Colby signaled King toward the barn. Usually the collie slept curled up on the floor of Ginny’s bedroom, but Colby had been so troubled lately, she had taken to using him as a night guard. Paul watched her signal the dog, a frown on his face. “You really are worried, aren’t you, Colby?”
She shrugged casually. “I just think it’s better to be safe than sorry, Paulo. Ben says he thinks a bunch of kids are playing pranks.”
Paul snorted his denial. “Ben always blames teenagers. What’s up with that?”
Colby laughed again, filling the house with the sound of her warmth. “You should have seen him as a teenager. He was the bad boy of the school. He just thinks everyone is like he was.”
Paul shook his head and opened the door to his bedroom. “I can’t imagine him as a teenager. He doesn’t even know how to smile. Good night, Colby, you need to actually go to bed.”
She raised an eyebrow even as she hid her amusement of his authoritative tone. “Good night, Paul.”
3
C
olby sighed and
threw back the covers. For a moment her hand lingered on the beautiful handmade quilt covering her bed. Her mother had sent away to Paris for the comforter. A very famous but elusive designer had made it. She remembered very vividly her need to have the quilt after she’d seen it advertised in a magazine. Colby had known it was something special, almost as if it possessed a power of its own. Her mother and stepfather had given it to her for her tenth birthday and Colby prized it above every other possession she had. Along with the rare beauty and unique feeling of comfort and safety it gave her, the quilt was a symbol of her parents’ love for her.