didn’t want to put a name to. They called up gruesome memories and pain—so much pain. And guilt. Shame. Anger. He shoved the tumultuous emotions behind a cold curtain of composure. He flexed his fingers on the smooth surface of the car and straightened.
“I didn’t do this to her, Dad,” he said quietly, gazing down the street. “I intend to save her.”
“Well, we all know where your good intentions get people,” his father muttered.
Lucien gritted his teeth, his muscles flexing in his cheek. It was dark now, although the sky still bore traces of burnt orange—the light of a sun reluctant to relinquish its grasp on the day.
“Your witch friend told me what you were up to,” Vincent said calmly. Lucien’s lips quirked. He wished he’d been there to see that. Dave Carter was renowned for not giving a damn about position or power, and wouldn’t have given his father the respect the old man believed was his due.
Sometimes, he envied Dave Carter. Not a lot, but sometimes. Lucien said nothing, but turned to look at his father expectantly.
Vincent’s brown eyes took on a serious glint. “Your sister’s condition is getting worse. I understand a certain Professor Segova is proving resistant?”
Lucien glanced at Natalie’s quaint little home. She still hadn’t turned on any lights. “She’ll come around.”
“We don’t have time for that. I’ll leave Enzo here, to assist.” His father indicated the driver’s seat and Lucien leaned down to glance into the dark interior. His father’s guardian nodded at him, his expression bland.
Lucien pinned Enzo with a lethal glare. “You won’t go anywhere near her,” he stated slowly and succinctly. “She is off-limits to you. And you,” he told his father. “I’ll take care of this.” He was still upset with Natalie—furious, really—but he didn’t want his father or the guardian prime to get involved.
Enzo arched an eyebrow and curiosity flared in his eyes as he briefly glanced toward the house. Lucien didn’t care that his remark would draw more attention to Natalie. He knew what kind of “assistance” was being offered and he didn’t want it anywhere near Natalie. Damn it, she’d already been through enough.
“I don’t take orders from my son,” Vincent pointed out mildly. “Whatever it takes, she has to tell us what she knows—and you know Enzo has certain skills to make people talk.”
That was the problem. Lucien knew exactly what Enzo was capable of. Natalie thought she couldn’t die—a fact that intrigued him. A woman who could resist compulsion, couldn’t die, and possessed the strength of ten men—going by the way their kiss had ended so abruptly—yet she wasn’t a vampire. She was all warmth and vitality in his arms, all soft heat and lush curves—Damn it, he wasn’t going to think about that. But she thought death couldn’t claim her. Well, she’d be screaming for death before Enzo was through with her.
A four-by-four pickup turned the corner and drove slowly down the street. Lucien met his father’s gaze briefly before the young man turned into Natalie’s driveway. Lucien recognized the guy from several photos on Natalie’s hallway wall.
He shook his head at Vincent. “I said, I’ll take care of this.” He stepped away from the BMW and crossed the street, back in the direction of Natalie’s house.
“You can see me!”
Natalie’s glance skidded away, but it was too late. The girl leaped off the arm of the sofa, clasping her hands. “Oh, my God. You can see me!” She jumped up and down, clapping her hands. “This is so cool. You don’t know how long it’s been since I’ve actually spoken to anyone. I’m Courtney.”
Natalie glanced down at the book in her hands. She wasn’t wearing gloves. Blast. She’d taken them off to show Lucien her scarless skin. “Look, I’m kind of in the middle of something right now—”
“Of course! You have to go after him. That was so romantic,” Courtney gushed. “He has been moping over that book forever.”
Natalie frowned. “Really?”
“For reals. Totally.”
Natalie hesitated.
“And he’s super-hot.” Courtney waggled her eyebrows and popped her gum.
Natalie rolled her eyes, but still headed for the front door. She’d deal with Courtney later. She pulled the door open. “Luc—”
Lucien was walking up her garden path to her door, hauling a resistant Ned Henderson with him.
“Ned,” she gasped, then frowned. “What are you doing here?”
“I got your text,” Ned said, trying to shrug Lucien off. He wasn’t successful. “I was heading out to meet with some friends and thought I’d drop my truck off tonight instead of tomorrow.” He tried to brush off Lucien’s grip. “Let go of me, man.” He winced as Lucien’s grip tightened.
“That’s very sweet of you,” Lucien said, his gaze alternating between her and her research assistant. “You must be fairly close to be able to call in favors like that, Natalie.”
Her frown deepened and sense of disquiet sparked at his words.
Lucien cocked his head as he smiled tightly up at her, his hold tight and unyielding on her research assistant’s arm. “What was it you said?” he asked casually. “My family for yours?”
His eyes flashed red, his teeth lengthened. Natalie’s eyes widened in horror as she guessed his intentions. She dropped the book and started running down her porch steps. “No!”
Lucien sank his teeth into Ned’s neck and Ned cried out in pain. Her friend tried to struggle, but his eyelids flickered and he slumped to the ground.
* * *
Lucien watched as Natalie’s expression paled.
“What have you done?” Natalie screeched as she skidded to her knees on the path. She pressed her hand to Ned’s neck, trying to stop the flow of crimson blood that was now staining her path. She shrugged out of her jacket, wadding it up in her hand to press against the bite. He saw her hands tremble as she tended to Ned.
“Exactly as you said, Natalie,” Lucien said calmly as he wiped a drop of blood from the corner of his lips. He watched as she tried desperately to save her friend. Much more effort than he’d expected, admittedly. He’d been right. For someone who had no one, she sure had a lot of photos of her students and coworkers. She might not admit it—she may not even be aware of it—but she had established connections with people in her life as Natalie Segova.
She glared up at him. “Fix him,” she demanded.
He raised an eyebrow. “Oh, so you’d like my help to save someone close to you, huh?” He couldn’t help the prod. He was so damn angry with her. He should have left, given himself time to calm down, to think rationally. But then, that would leave Natalie unprotected against his father’s guardian prime. He tried to rein it in, but it was difficult. He was angry. Angry that he was forced to do this. Angry that she’d totally turned her back on him. She’d felt lost and lonely, and would rather kill herself then reach out to him. He’d—Damn it, he’d loved that young woman, in his own way. And she’d been prepared to bleed it all down a drain. Rage simmered within him, burying his shock and despair at her confession, and those softer, warmer feelings that had woken with that kiss. He smiled, his lips tight.
“Agree to help me save my sister and I’ll save your...friend.” He eyed the young man, his skin a pasty white against the dark flagstone of the path. He was just a friend, right? Not that he cared, or had any right to query her on that. Still, the curiosity jabbed at him.
“You bastard.”
“So