by Kay, Sharon
CHAPTER 1
Chicago
Present Day
KAI CROUCHED ON THE ROOF of the gleaming Lincoln Park condo building, all of his enhanced senses on alert. Through the concrete and metal below his feet, the smell of lilacs wafted up to him, reassuring him of Brooke’s presence. He focused on the unit below, listening for the steady beat of her heart and the even rhythm of her breathing. Satisfied that she was sound asleep, he relaxed and inhaled, letting her scent wash over him. He could drown in that seductive, soothing fragrance.
Brooke would kill him if she knew he was here. Most days, she looked ready to hurl a dagger between his eyes. If his brethren found out, he would never hear the end of it. The other Lash demons stationed in Chicago would fall on their asses laughing, and that would be after giving him shit for three days straight. Kai, who took pleasure in bedding as many women as he wanted, was stymied by one willful brunette.
But Brooke wasn’t just any brunette. The entire supernatural world believed her existence to be a myth. One day she would wield devastating power. Until she grew into her talents, her vulnerability made him edgy.
It gnawed at him that she stayed alone in her condo, though protective wards were placed on it by their Elder. So every night when he completed his patrols, he stopped by her building. He made it his private mission. Private being the operative word.
He couldn’t explain his need to ensure her safety. She hadn’t been threatened and held no affection for him. He snorted. Ice Princess. Cold as hell. That’s when she wasn’t shooting him a death glare or looking at him like he was a bug stuck to her shoe.
He cast a glare at the wispy clouds drifting across the dark sky. It never turned jet black, not with all the lights blanketing the city. The quiet streets gave him no cause to linger, yet he found himself thinking of reasons to stay. He watched the few souls walking down her tree-lined street, most returning from trendy neighborhood bars. There was no dark magic here. No need to hang out on her roof.
Straightening to leave, he heard her cry out. Adrenaline surged through his veins and a switch flipped in his mind, his body changing from observer to protector. Her unit was on the top floor of the building, which he could reach via her balcony. After dropping down outside the sliding glass door, he paused to take a deep breath. He didn’t detect any other scents inside her rooms.
Tugging on the door, he was pleased to find it locked. He would’ve been furious if she had been so careless as to leave it unlocked—then again, he wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. Since I’m not supposed to be here. She wouldn’t listen to him anyway.
He would’ve shattered the large glass pane if necessary, but she’d left a window cracked open next to the sliding door. All the better to not wake the neighbors.
Removing the screen, he shoved the frame open as far as it would go and climbed inside. It was tricky squeezing his six-and-a-half-foot body through, but he had been in tighter spaces. With a calculated drop, he landed soundlessly in a tidy living room.
He paused again, hearing nothing but her breathing, no longer as steady as it had been a few minutes ago. The fragrance of lilacs drew him through the living room and down a hall. He passed an empty bedroom, a bathroom, and then came to her open door.
She lay on her side, sheets twisted around her body. Alone.
As he crept into the room, he let out a breath. Must’ve been a dream. She slept soundly.
Or maybe not. She exhaled sharply, letting out a grunt before rolling onto her back. Her arm came up as if swatting something away, then dropped to her pillow. She sighed, and the fluttering behind her eyelids slowed. Gradually, so did her breathing.
Kai stood in the center of her room, unable to tear his eyes away from the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. And in his nearly two hundred years of existence, he had seen—and fucked—hundreds of females. Watching her now, slumbering peacefully, utterly relaxed, she looked innocent and delicate. No icy glare shone from her pale gray eyes. No snide comment fell from her lush red lips. Chestnut waves, wild from her fitful sleep, splayed across her pillow. This was simply Brooke, unguarded.
Had she fought with someone in her dream? He wondered if her subconscious wrestled with the role she and her sisters had been thrust into. They’d been raised human, oblivious to the immortal world that paralleled theirs.
He studied the flush that colored her ivory cheeks and extended down her neck, to the tops of her full breasts. Ah, hell. He could dream about her breasts all day long. And right now, her pajama top gave him quite an eyeful.
She wore a pink tank top, which had gotten twisted as she tossed and turned. The skimpy thing pulled tight across her body, revealing the heavy side curve of her breast. The cursed scrap of fabric barely contained all that creamy flesh. If it twisted half an inch lower—God, he’d be able to see her nipples. Stiff and taut, they pushed at the stretchy cotton, begging for his touch.
Kai closed his eyes and willed the blood to return to his head, as it all seemed to be pooled in his groin. She’s safe. It was only a dream. The last thing he needed was for her to wake and find him ogling her.
Stealing one last glance, he walked out of her bedroom and retraced his steps to the living room window. He climbed out, put the screen back in place, and glanced around. No one milled about the back of the building at this hour. He vaulted over the balcony railing to the pavement four stories below and sped home, hoping the ten-mile run would douse the heat racing through his veins.
Brooke’s body tried to wake, but her mind put up a hell of a fight. Fine lines of light peeked into her bedroom around the edges of her window shade. It was Saturday, so she could afford a few more minutes in bed.
Attempting to stretch and turn over, she found her legs caught up tightly in the knotted sheets. She scowled and sat up to untangle them, then flopped back down and pulled the sheet over her head. She snuggled into her pillow and breathed deeply, reveling in the quiet of her room. Beyond the walls, her neighborhood bustled with horns honking and engines roaring, people shouting and dogs barking. A cacophony of vibrant city life.
Normally she would hear the noises her sister made, puttering around as she went through her morning routine. But Nicole had moved in with her new man a few weeks ago. She seemed deliriously happy, but the sisters hadn’t spent this much time apart since college. Even though they talked every day and saw each other on weekends, Brooke was still adjusting to having less sister time.
Hey, it’s Saturday. Her brain finally perked up. She would spend the day with her sister. Never mind that five demons would be there too, testing her combat skills. She flung back the sheet and headed to her bathroom, opting for a soak in the tub instead of a quick shower.
She started the water and glanced in the mirror, eyebrows shooting skyward. What the hell? I must’ve had a crazy dream. First the twisted sheets, and now her tank top was completely askew. She pulled it off, trying to remember last night, grasping for any mental image to bring back her dream.
Nothing came to mind as she watched the tub fill. Climbing in, she couldn’t help but sigh in contentment as the warm water washed over her. She was in her element, literally.
She reached out with her mind and swirled circles of water around her ankles. Then she focused her energy on the center of the tub, visualizing a line down the middle, cutting the water in half. She pushed, and the water drew away from her imaginary line, opening a valley in the tub. The water level rose at her urging, drawing away from the center, climbing toward the sides.
The water threatened to spill over the edge and she sighed, releasing the liquid from her mental grasp. Sometimes practice and cleaning up went hand-in-hand. Not that the cleanup would require much effort. With a flick of energy from her mind, she could raise the water from the floor and dump it back into the tub.
She washed her hair and doused it with conditioner, then leaned back against the tub. Sometimes she felt confined by her gift, unlike her sister. No one thought twice about a sudden
breeze kicking up. Unless it was the gales Nicole liked to unleash on criminals they found preying on those weaker than themselves. But water flying through the air on a sunny day in Chicago? Now that would stand out.
If only she could travel to Torth. The demon realm was dangerous, but it beckoned to Brooke. She could use her own power, her affinity to water, in ways she could never attempt on Earth.
Brooke remembered how her sister had looked last week when the two of them intervened in a gang squabble. Flush with power, Nicole’s eyes flashed, her blond hair whipping around her head—
Brooke jerked. Blond hair flying. She had dreamed of a blond woman last night. Or was it a demon? The female’s coal black eyes turned red as she stared at Brooke. They stood in a dimly lit house, but Brooke didn’t recognize it. The creature came closer, grinning hideously, and then opened her mouth to reveal fangs. They dripped with blood, but whose? The woman's mouth opened wider than humanly possible, stretching and contorting, drawing closer to Brooke—
And that was it. The dream ended. Brooke shuddered, shaking off the disturbing images. It was only a dream. The demon realm was full of, well, demons, as well as other things that the sisters would never have believed were real. Brooke tried to not let anything surprise her anymore.
She finished her bath and toweled off as she walked to her closet. Choosing a fitted red T-shirt and her favorite boot-cut jeans, she pulled them on. Next, a swipe of lip gloss and her black low-heeled boots.
Making quick work of a yogurt, she grabbed her backpack and an apple, and left the safety of her building. She loved the leafy trees on her block. Lincoln Park was a nice neighborhood, full of old brownstones and new condo buildings like her own. Families and yuppies lived here, and the streets were lined with coffee shops, restaurants, and trendy stores. Parks occupied every other corner.
No, her neighborhood was fine. But there was the threat of something else wandering through it. When Nicole moved out, she wanted Brooke to go with her to the demons' house in Evanston. Brooke refused, wanting to keep their beautiful condo as well as her independence, but the others insisted on protective wards as a condition.
Fine. The wards didn't impact her life, except to prevent anything evil from creeping in and killing her. The wards extended to the entire building, so it was one of the safest in the city. Little did her neighbors know that the building’s security system had been beefed up by magic. Grinning, she walked the few blocks to the El station at Fullerton. When a Purple Line train pulled in, she boarded it and settled in for the ride north.
Brooke opened the front door of the place she and Nicole had nicknamed Demon Central. It was a huge old mansion sitting on a vast manicured yard. Large trees stood sentry in the front, and thick hedges shielded it from the road.
Calling out a greeting, more from habit than necessity, she walked across the stone-tiled foyer. The demons living here had enhanced hearing. All their senses exceeded those of humans, so they would have registered her approach before she even touched the door.
Brooke made a beeline for the kitchen at the back of the house, drawn by the light-hearted yet booming voices that grew louder as she neared. The room looked like something out of a magazine, with its gleaming black granite counters, recessed lighting, and stainless steel appliances. She inhaled the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and surveyed the scene.
Her sister stood with her back to her. Two of the largest men Brooke had ever met peered over Nicole’s shoulders. One of them turned to her and grinned. “It's the Brookster, to the rescue!”
“Hey, Rhys.” She smiled at the dark eyed demon. His thick brown hair was cropped short. Sometimes it looked like he had haphazardly run his hands through it and it stuck out all over. Today, it was smoothed forward, laying close to his skull. “What do you mean, rescue?” she asked.
“Your sister needs some, uh, help at the stove,” he said in a loud whisper.
The other towering man turned to smirk at Rhys. “Ix-nay on the elp-hay.”
Brooke’s eyes widened. “Morning, Gunnar,” she said to Nicole’s mate. “What’s going on in here?”
“I heard both of those comments.” Nicole turned around, and Brooke bit her lip to suppress a giggle. A streak of flour ran down her sister’s cheek, and splashes of egg dotted her black T-shirt. Her blond hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail. Blond hair that had recently acquired an inky-black, inch-wide streak. Brooke still did a double-take when she saw it.
“I tried to make your recipe for oven-baked Dutch apple pancakes,” Nicole said. “But, um, this is what happened.” She held out a rectangular glass baking dish that was filled with a soupy mixture of eggs, sugar, and floating apple slices.
She looked so disappointed, Brooke stifled her laugh and smiled instead. “Hey, you tried. Let's start over. Do you have more eggs?” She washed her hands at the small sink in the middle of the island, while Nicole poured the sad excuse for breakfast down the garbage disposal of the large farm sink by the window.
“Do we have more eggs!” Nicole repeated, and it wasn't a question. “With the appetites in this house, we may as well buy a few hens. For guys who don't have to eat every day, they sure seem to appear every time I cook for myself.” She grinned up at her hulking black-haired mate, whose tender smile looked incompatible with his formidable presence.
Dropping a kiss on Nicole's head, he murmured, “I'll let you two work your magic in here.”
“I'm teaching her everything I know,” Brooke said, as the men headed into the great room.
Alone in the kitchen, the sisters started from scratch with the pancake recipe. As she cracked eggs, Brooke asked, “Does Torth have vampires?”
Nicole frowned. “We didn't run into any when we were there. Why?”
“I had the weirdest dream last night.” Then again, things that used to seem weird were becoming the new normal.
“About a vampire?”
“I guess. She had fangs, red eyes, and blond hair.”
“Hmm.” Nicole wiped her flour-coated fingers on a paper towel. “If I've learned anything in the last month, it's that things can only get weirder. We can ask the guys about it.”
Brooke nodded as they assembled the ingredients, making a double batch, and popped the baking dishes into the ovens. Thirty minutes later, Nicole remarked, “I see five hungry demons hanging around out there.”
Five? Brooke pasted a smile on her face as she took one of the dishes out. Let them think she was pleased that demons liked her recipe. Five meant that they were all home. Including Kai.
“You know, I'm going to skip this meal,” Brooke said.
Nicole's eyebrows shot up and she opened her mouth to protest, but Brooke stopped her.
“I don’t want to eat too much right now. I'm here for my weekly punishment, remember? Oh wait, I meant to say, my weapons training session with Brenin.” She grinned as Brenin poked his head into the kitchen.
“Good gods, it smells awesome in here. Marry me, Brooke.” He winked.
“No,” she replied with a smile and a shake of her head.
The blond demon clapped his hand over his heart in mock affront. With hair that hung down to the middle of his back, he looked like a modern-day Viking. He loved to banter with everyone, including her, but Brooke felt nothing beyond friendship for her occasional trainer.
Nicole narrowed her eyes at him. “Hey, how do you know I didn’t make the kitchen smell this good?”
The tall demon blanched and stuttered, “Umm…uh, I gotta help Rhys beat the Halo level he’s on right now.” He ducked out of the kitchen in a flash.
Nicole sighed. “I guess everyone knows you’re the breakfast expert in the family.”
Brooke smiled and patted her sister’s shoulder. “You’ve got lots of time to learn. Can you save me a piece of this?”
“Easier said than done around here. But I will, even if I have to put a lock on the fridge.”
“Thanks. Tell Brenin I’ll meet him downstairs.”
For all the old-money look of the demons' home, the inside had been updated with every modern convenience. Brooke opened a door in the kitchen that led down a flight of stairs to an immense work-out room. It was equipped with everything a battle-hardened warrior could want: a firing range, a large treadmill, free weights, a shower, punching bags, and a large open space with blue padded floor mats. Brooke headed to the weapons area, where she found every length of knife or sword imaginable, as well as wicked-looking instruments that she couldn't fathom how to use.
She picked up a small dagger and looked at the wall opposite her. Three wooden beams had been nailed to it at varying heights, each beam six feet long and scarred with the evidence of its use. Taking aim at the highest beam, she hurled the dagger end over end, watching with a satisfied grin as it sunk into the wood.
She worked for a few minutes, feeling confident as each of her knives hit its mark. Then again, her hand-eye coordination had always been strong. In school, she had been known for her killer serves in volleyball and tennis. Those were the sports she managed to squeeze in around the mixed martial arts she and Nicole loved.
She picked up the last of the small blades and drew her arm back.
“Nice work, Sprite.”
The dagger sailed wide to the right, her concentration startled by the last person she wanted to talk to.
“Except for that one.” His deep voice resonated along her skin.
She turned around and glared at the source of her frustration. “What do you want, Kai?”
Well over six feet tall, his broad shoulders filled the doorframe. Chocolate-brown eyes pierced her as a smile tugged at his full lower lip. A smile that was always sarcastic when aimed at her. “Just checking on your progress.”