“Sounds like he was shocked at the loss,” Dmetri said.

“Or lying,” Vane said.

“I could look into it for you. It may take some time though,” Brayden said.

Vane looked so relieved he slumped in his seat. “That’d be a miracle, if only to ease Sarina’s mind. How long do you think it’d take? I mean even if it was truly an accident, I’d rather know and have it looked into than not.”

“A few months at least. I’ll have to dig up old records.” Vane came forward and clasped Brayden’s hand in a firm handshake. “Thank you. This means a lot to me. If I can ever do anything for you, let me know.” Brayden stood and made for the door. Grasping the door handle, he pulled it open. A mass of dark hair and girl fell to the floor. “I believe we have a listener.” Vane all but growled. “Vanessa what do you think you’re doing?” She humphed as she dragged herself off the ground, and then her eyes locked on Brayden.

“I was curious,” she said slowly, never taking her eyes off the old vampire. She held out her hand. “And you are?”

Brayden looked down at her hand but didn’t take it. Instead he turned to Vane, completely dismissing the girl.

“Who is this?”

“Vanessa Kategan, my cousin. She ran away from home. I’m letting her stay here while we get some things straightened out.”

Dmetri watched the girl glare at Brayden for not taking her hand. She crossed her arms instead and continued to watch him. If he wasn’t wrong, and he rarely was, then he saw interest in her eyes. Dmetri would have warned her that there was no getting past Brayden; he was a warrior through and through. Hell, the man never even took a woman to bed, ever. He was a celibate, cold-blooded commander and that’s how he’s always been.

“Get what straightened out?” asked Brayden.

Eager to get out of there and go see Christine, Dmetri spoke for Vane. “Her father’s trying to mate her to an Alpha to combine packs. She doesn’t want to because he’s ‘old.’” Brayden looked down at the girl. “Law is law. If her father wishes it she must go through with it.”

Vanessa gasped and took a step towards the vampire. If it was supposed to be intimidating, it was anything but. She was too young and skinny.

“Joseph is old, fat, and nasty. He looks at me like I’m a damn tasty steak and I’m supposed to, what, just go with it because my father’s an idiot who wants more land? As if that will somehow make his dick bigger—”

“Vanessa!” Vane shouted.

She clamped her mouth shut, cheeks turning pink from either embarrassment or anger.

She cocked her head to the side and smiled all white teeth and false cheer at them.

Then she flipped Brayden off and skipped out of the room.

Silence followed.

“She’s insolent.”

Vane nodded in agreement. “Sorry about that. She’s a little spitfire.” He almost sounded proud. Damn Kategans.

Dmetri cut in before he died from blood loss. “Listen, gotta go. I’ll catch up with you tomorrow.”

Dmetri left and made his way to Christine.

The lights were off in her cabin and his car wasn’t parked outside. Walking like an elderly man, he made his way to his cabin. The walk was probably only five minutes but felt more like an hour. Relief poured through him as he spotted his car outside the cabin.

He started for the door but stopped and looked back at the car.

“Damn,” he muttered as he spotted her asleep at the wheel.

He wobbled to the driver’s side and knocked on the glass. She came awake with wide eyes, hands clutching at the wheel. It took a second for recognition to set in but when it did, she smiled at him. That one smile almost made him forget about the pain in his leg. Almost.

She got out and wrapped her arm around his waist as if she could hold him up. “Oh my God, you’re hurt. Come inside, I’ll take care of it.”

He let her pretend to hold him up as they walked into the sparse cabin. He liked the feel of her arm around him, liked the tender, almost caring look on her face. No one looked at him like that.

“Sit down,” she said ushering him to the couch.

He stifled a groan as he sat. His leg felt like a hot poker was jammed inside his muscle.

Each move burned the wound hotter; it stung like a mother.

She started to head into the other room then stopped. “Damn all my supplies are at home.

I’ll be right back.”

Before she reached the front door, he stopped her. “Don’t. Just stay.” He wasn’t sure what compelled him to say it but he knew he didn’t want her to leave.

“All right, just give me a minute.” Her heels clicked on the wood floor as she went into the bathroom. She came back out carrying a wet washcloth, a hand towel, and some medical supplies.

Dmetri relaxed back into the seat. He needed blood and soon. His eyes popped open as she knelt in front of him. He could have sighed. This was what he wanted, minus the wound and lethargy.

She lifted the wet material from around the wound to inspect it. “I’ll have to remove your pants.”

Dmetri arched a brow as she reached for his belt buckle and started to undo it. His cock wasn’t completely dead; it jumped at her hands being so close, hardening at a rate that surprised him. She didn’t seem to notice though as she unbuttoned his trousers and pulled down the zipper.

“Lift,” she said and he braced himself on his arm to lift up so she could sashay his pants down.

She stopped in the motion of pulling them down, eyes falling to his groin. Dmetri wanted to preen. Her tongue darted out to lick her top lip and he would have groaned if he had the energy, but sadly all he wanted to do was drink some blood, get patched up, and pass the fuck out.

Still he managed to say, “Is it to your liking?”

She swallowed hard then tore her gaze away. “Black silk boxers, why am I only mildly surprised?”

His grin was wicked. He liked her smart mouth. She made him smile, and she continued to surprise him. A sexy little puzzle.

She finished pulling the pants down past his knees and didn’t even flinch at the ghastly wound. Her fingers prodded near the wound applying just enough pressure that warning censors blew up in his brain.

“You’ll need stitches,” she announced.

She grabbed the wet washcloth and cleaned up the blood, some caked, some fresh that had bled down past his knee. The wound wasn’t a clean cut either, in and out. That’d be too easy; Claude had dug the knife in, twisting the blade so he serrated the flesh around it. Crazy bastard.

He closed his eyes and rested his head back on the soft cushion with a satisfied sigh. His body felt both heavy and light at the same time, almost like he was swimming.

Gently she cleaned him, her touch light as a butterfly. “This might sting,” she warned.

Liquid dowsed the wound and he didn’t make a sound even though it felt like she’d just poured salt on it. But quickly she put on a soothing salve that had his body relaxing even further into the couch. It wasn’t his kind of couch. He liked leather, black and sleek, and so soft he could melt into it. But, hell, he didn’t care right now. The cheap couch felt soft as a damn cloud.

He didn’t know how much time passed but when he opened his eyes, she wasn’t sitting in front of him. He blinked as he looked around.

“Christine?” His hoarse voice made him wince. He swallowed over his chapped throat wishing he had some blood.

She came out of the bathroom with a small smile on her face. “I just went to put everything away.” She stopped near him, looking unsure...and so damned beautiful. Her curly blonde hair was a mess and frizzing at the top of her head like a fuzzy halo. Her dress was wrinkled, and her hands were red from washing them under hot water. She looked so natural and real.