The Wolf (Black Dagger Brotherhood: Prison Camp #2)(118)

Lucan looked up at the sky.

Then he leveled his head. And curled his upper lip.

For the first time around her, he let his fangs elongate—and had to ignore a tingling hunger as he considered all the soft places on her he could sink them into.

“I’m sure you’ve heard the myth,” he said in a low voice. “But you humans have it all wrong. As usual.”

“Vampire,” she whispered in terror.



Annnnnnnnd it was time for a little breakie-poo.

Rio’s legs made the executive decision without any consultation from her mind or the pesky free will thing that usually controlled negotiations between the body and the brain: One second, she was standing. The next she was in a sit, right on the shoulder of the lane.

The good news—maybe it was training—was that she had the forethought to make sure she didn’t pull the trigger on the way down or on impact. And now that she was on her ass, literally and figuratively, she put the nine millimeter on its side on the dirt.

Then she crossed her hands in her lap like she was in church.

After a moment, there were noises: Shuffling, pulling, a grunt or two. She couldn’t tell what Luke was doing exactly, but she could guess the general gist of things.

Then his face was in front of hers. He even waved his hand before her eyes.

“I don’t understand,” she heard herself say. Which was what was going through her mind over and over again.

Luke knelt down. “I can make it go away.”

“What?”

“I can make you forget everything. You won’t remember any part of this. It will be as if it never occurred.”

That explains it, she thought.

“The guard. And then what you did in the . . . back at the . . .” She winced as her head hurt. “You do that to people, don’t you. Manipulate their memories.”

“It’ll be easier on you.”

“No,” she said weakly. “I don’t want that. My . . . mind . . . is not yours to take.”

When he didn’t respond, she started to relive everything—just to check and see what might have been taken: “My cover was blown and Mozart sent someone to kidnap me from my apartment. I woke up in his actual house. He didn’t show me his face—he drugged me—” She paused and looked at the front of the Monte Carlo. “What’s that growling? I thought he was dead—”

“Sorry.” Luke slapped a palm over his mouth. “I get a little . . . aggressive sometimes.”

Rio turned herself to him and looked at him properly for the first time. “You attacked that guy with the knife. That was you. It wasn’t a stray dog.”

“Well, technically, it was the wolven in me. But yeah, I sent him forward to save you.”

“You sent . . .”

“It’s like having two people in one skin. I’m mostly in control. But in certain circumstances, he comes out, and he does what he does. He’s very dangerous.”

“Why didn’t he hurt me?” Was she really talking like this? “Because you told him not to?”

“No, he knows you. He knows . . . you. That’s the only way I can explain it.”

“You look so . . . normal.”

“No, I just resemble a human on the outside.” He frowned. “Tell me about Mozart. He was the one who hurt you?”

“I’d never actually met him in person until he kidnapped me. The communications with him are all done through screens and VPNs. I was getting close, so fucking close. But he found me out because . . .” She took a deep breath. “I think someone in my own department tipped him off about me. Another officer, who was undercover like me, was killed—and right before he was, he tried to warn me. That was the night I met you.”

“Jesus.”

“Which was why I can’t go back to Caldwell. I don’t know who to trust—but I can’t let Mozart win. I just can’t.” She closed her eyes. “Even if it’s the last thing I do, I just want—”

“To kill him?”

Rio shook her head. “I want to jail that bastard. He’s everything I’ve ever worked against. He’s murdered so many people, and I just . . . I’ve spent eighteen months closing in on him. I want him to go to prison for the rest of his natural life.” She lifted her palms. “After that, I can retire. I’m finished in this racket anyway. My cover blown, my life a mess.”

They stayed there long enough for a shooting star to pierce the blue velvet of the night sky . . . and travel all the way across the visible plane of the universe.

“You know, you’re still as easy to talk to as ever.” She smiled a little. “I mean, this is remarkably unweird for being totally bizarre.”

“That’s because it has always been, and still is . . . me.”

Rio looked down at her hands and remembered running them over his body. And the way it had been to make love with him. And the connection she felt—and still did.

“You know,” he said, “I could help you.”

She lifted her head up. “How?”

“I can help you get to Mozart.”

“But . . . how?”

Luke tapped the side of his head. “We have tricks, remember. If you want to find Mozart, I can help you.”