Chapter One

Searc Macleod woke in a panic, rubbing his chest, his head fuzzy, his fangs distended, feeling as if he'd tied one too many on the night prior. As a special operative for an organization humans weren't to have knowledge of, he often found himself globe-trotting. The past week had been no exception. The last thing he recalled had been parting ways with his teammates on the tarmac after their private jet had landed near headquarters.

Daylight had been nearing, and Searc could remember heading home, bone tired. Why did it feel as though he'd made a pit stop to get shit-faced? He hadn't, but that didn't change the way he felt. It took him a moment to get his bearings and retract his fangs—a natural defense mechanism.

The term for his kind within the supernatural community was a vampire. But he knew the best label was cursed. He wasn't a born vampire, as some were. He'd been made—sired by Cormag Buchanan, a Highland Warrior, clan chieftain, and master vampire. That had been almost three hundred years ago.

While a lot of things had changed in the span of three centuries, some things hadn't. Like Searc's vampire side sensing danger long before the human side did. As was the case now. His demon had always been able to pick up on things deeper and faster than he could. When he'd first found himself turned, he'd seen the world through new eyes. Sights, smells, and sounds had been so intense that they'd bordered on overwhelming for his first few months. Thankfully, he'd had someone there to guide him, to walk him through the change—the thirst.

Not every newly turned vampire was so lucky.

Focusing as best he could considering he felt drugged, Searc looked around at his surroundings, wondering where he was and if he'd been captured by the enemy again.

He hadn't. He was home, in his bed, no sign of anyone near him.

He exhaled a small sigh of relief.

The last time he'd fallen behind enemy lines was nearly a year ago. He'd ended up being taken to a holding facility full of laboratories. The bad guys had numerous scientists and doctors working with them, who'd collected samples from Searc between the tortures the guards inflicted on him. He'd suffered worse in the past and didn't break.

Though he couldn't recall anyone other than his employer collecting various samples from him in his life. The people who'd held him had taken everything from blood to semen. And having the latter collected was something he didn't want to go through again. It had been a gross violation of his body, but the man who had dared to force it upon him had paid a heavy price. The kill had been perfect and much needed. The moment he'd gotten free from his bindings, Searc had surged up, bitten the man's throat out, and feasted upon his blood before snapping the man's neck.

"I should have taken my time with his death," he whispered, meaning every word of it. He'd been too quick to kill the man who had dared to touch him, dared to force a release on him and take from him that which Searc hadn't wanted to give.

He closed his eyes, hating that his body had betrayed him back then. The fucking bastard scientist had come in with a dress that smelled like jasmine with hints of roses. The scent had driven Searc mad with need, making him think of the one woman who seemed to make him bend with desire with but a thought—Jessie Buchanan.

Images of her long dark red hair, full rosy lips, chocolate eyes, and pale skin had come over him so quickly that his cock had hardened at once. The scientist had grabbed hold of his prick, stroking it, shoving the dress in Searc's face, laughing as Searc's demon surged forward, unable to stop what was happening because there had been too many drugs in his system at the time and he'd been shackled. He'd hung by chains, helpless as his body reacted to the scent of the dress, and the scientist's hand jerked him off until he spilled his seed into a container.

Bastard!

It had been nearly a week before his teammates had tracked his location and come for him. A week of that fucking bastard scientist returning daily, jerking him off and collecting his semen, all while shoving the dress in his face—mocking him. The scientist had taunted him, telling him that he'd never get to really feel the dress owner's tight cunt wrapped around his cock. He'd never know the pleasures of her body. And that they'd have her in their hands soon enough. That they'd do to her what they'd done to him and so much more. That they'd make him watch as they tortured her too.

Searc had struggled against his shackles, wanting to kill the man then and there for daring to threaten a woman he didn't even know. A woman whose scent reminded him of Jessie.

He hung his head, hating that he'd gotten lost in the memories of it all once more. It wasn't as if he hadn't suffered through far worse in his long life. Falling into the hands of the enemy happened more than one would think, especially with what he was and what he did. Though since he'd gone clean and to the side of light, the incidents had been fewer and farther between. And he'd been one of the lucky ones. One of the men taken who'd gotten out after a short period, or gotten out at all. Much had come to the surface in the past year, and he now knew the enemy was organized.

The Corporation was a giant conglomerate that had been working diligently behind the scenes to pull together different and normally warring factions of the supernatural underground. Where once certain species had fought to the death against one another, they were now standing shoulder to shoulder, making alliances and deals. The Corporation was smart, well funded, and doing a lot of damage. No one knew the full scope of their reach and more than likely they never would, but what PSI had learned was enough to keep a person up at night with worry. They seemed to have their hand in everything, including traitors in the very organization Searc worked for—Paranormal Security and Intelligence (PSI).

Searc had seen the reports on what some of the samples they took from others had been used on. And apparently, the testing wasn't new. It had started over a century ago, but it was gaining traction and getting results. Its organizers were getting bolder and trying new things. The most recent had been the creation of hybrids, creatures they were blends of many supernatural at once, but who had been made from adults, not infants or babies still in the womb—which had been the best way to manipulate the genetic makeup of those being tested upon.

To date, the new attempts had been what most would term unsuccessful, as the results were left crazy, rotting, and on borrowed time. They were strong and loyal. When given an order, they followed it—to the death even. But there were other levels of these hybrids emerging daily. And Searc now feared his DNA would be used in the creation of more.

The only comfort he had was that the semen they'd collected from him would do them no good unless they managed to find his mate. The odds of them finding that one perfect person who was created just for him were slim.

He snorted, taking a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. "Don't think back to the torture. Think of tomorrow. Don't dwell on the past."

The past was a rabbit hole that would do him no good falling down once more. He hadn't always been a good guy, and the shame he still carried for his past sins weighed heavily on him. They had been what used to haunt his dreams. What had caused him to wake from a dead sleep?

The sun hadn't gone down yet. He'd have sensed it. He was in sync with it, mourning its loss and hating it all at the same time. It acted as a warden during the day, and mocked him at night, being just out of reach.

Regardless, the sun was still out so he shouldn't have woken. He hesitated, tapping into his preternatural hearing to listen for a possible intruder in his home. There was nothing. No heartbeats, no sounds of another breathing, nothing.

He was alone.

And he was awake.

He glanced at the clock on the end table next to his bed. His brows drew together. He'd only been asleep three hours. Generally, his body required at least five solid hours of rest. "The sleep of the dead" was how he'd heard others term what vampires did. It was oddly fitting. When in that state, they did often appear dead, and it took some doing to draw them from the slumber. They were vulnerable during that time. Many vampires kept shifters around to help watch over them during the day, but some, like Searc, took their chances on their own. He didn't like being beholden to another. And he wasn't afraid of death.

He moved the sheet down more before twisting and sitting up in bed, unconcerned with the fact he was naked. He lived alone, and he wasn't exactly shy about his body. A light sheen of sweat was on him, and he tipped his head, wondering what, if anything, he'd dreamt about. Whatever it was, it had clearly scared the shit out of him, and that wasn't commonplace. He didn't exactly scare easily anymore. If anything, he was the thing others feared.

The monster under the bed.

The killer in the darkness.

A fucking bloodsucker.

The harder he concentrated on his dream—or nightmare, from the obvious signs of it all—the more he felt the impulse to grab his cell phone and call a man he'd not talked to in months. A man he'd argued with the last time he'd seen him. Though that wasn't exactly shocking. He tended to argue with his maker, the man who had turned him into a vampire, often. They'd been butting heads from the start, and three centuries had done nothing to change their dynamics. Oddly, they'd also remained friends through it all. Describing what they had was a lot like trying to explain when brothers would fight with one another but never permit anyone else to join in. However, Searc was no biological relation to his maker.

While they now fought for the same side in the battle of good versus evil, they hadn't always, yet they held no hate for one another. And in truth, there were so many shades of gray in the war of all wars that it was hard to tell the good guys from the bad on some days. Such was the case with Cormag.

Cormag was a heavy hitter in the underground paranormal scene. And he was feared by most, having built a reputation on being a badass. But Searc knew another side of the man. The side that had protected women and children during epic battles in the past. The side that had fought hard for a country they both loved during the Jacobite rising. And the side of the man that had, with a heavy heart, converted all his fallen clansmen after Culloden, so that they would live to fight another day— or night, in their cases.

And they had.

They'd fought many battles since then. Some they'd won, some they'd lost, but they'd been present.

The overwhelming need to call the man who had sired him, who had turned him into a creature of darkness, struck Searc with enough force that it nearly caused him to fall out of bed. He rubbed his chest again, perplexed as to what was happening. For a brief moment, he worried if witchcraft was involved. He'd been subjected to it in the past and knew it was nasty stuff. Nearly as bad as necromancer power.

Almost.

He pulled his thoughts together and concentrated on the sensations he'd felt upon waking. There had been no residual necromancer or witch power around him, but there had been an energy that wasn't his. It also wasn't threatening. It was desperate. It needed his help.

Was something wrong with Cormag? Was Searc sensing his sire's end?

No.

That couldn't be. Cormag was fierce and powerful. Taking him down would possibly require an army. Most bad guys didn't come bearing one.

He could remember the rumors surrounding Cormag back in the old days. When the other clans from the Highlands of Scotland whispered that their chieftain was a demon, they'd had no idea how right they'd been. Cormag had been ruthless, as was the clan. They were fierce warriors, never giving in or surrendering. They'd stood against their enemies with pride and no fear of the end.

It was during a battle that Searc fell, impaled by a sword; the wound was one that no healer could assist with. When Cormag appeared above him, offering something more than death, a way out, a way to keep fighting another day, it had seemed like a dream come true.

Searc hadn't understood the price of living forever back then. He did now. He knew that immortality came with the absence of sunlight, watching your human friends and family die, the never-ending thirst for blood, and a demon living inside of you. It came with always having to maintain control of the darkness or risk becoming what he hunted—evil.

If he had it to do again, he'd pick death. Pushing three hundred years old, he'd had a lot of time to contemplate it all. He'd seen and done just about everything there was to do, except fall in love. That had always managed to escape him.

Sure, he'd had women come and go from his life whom he'd had special interests in, but he'd never loved any of them. He'd never wanted something close to a real life with them. At least not until recent years. The woman he saw a future with wasn't a woman he could have. She was untouchable.

For one, she was Cormag's daughter, and for another, she was far too young for him.

He laughed softly.

Everyone was too young for him.

He didn't look anywhere near his age. When he'd fallen in battle, he'd been in his twenty-sixth year. So while he was chronologically two hundred and ninety-seven years old, he didn't look a day over twenty-six. That didn't matter. His current situation was only serving to make him feel even older, more tired, more beat down from the never- ending battle with darkness.

He ran a hand over his face, his thoughts still a jumbled mess. He scratched at his closely cut beard, thinking as hard as he could at the moment. There was something, just out of his mind's grasp, telling him he had to reach out and make contact.

But what?

What had caused him to wake in such a manner and in such a state of panic? Closing his eyes, he tried to focus on what it had been. He calmed himself and let his mind wander. He thought more about Cormag, his maker, but that didn't seem right. Cormag didn't seem to fit the puzzle.

He kept going, kept pushing through the fog in his brain and as he did he instantly thought of long, deep red hair, pale skin, and dark brown, captivating eyes. Eyes that he'd thought of often over the years. They belonged to a woman he had no business thinking of let alone dreaming of—Jessie.

Searc stood so fast, he found himself wrapped partially in the sheet and he stumbled forward, doing a rather ungraceful dismount from the bed. Thankfully, there were no witnesses. There was once a time, several years back, when he rarely slept alone, but those days were behind him. He didn't have the same urge to bed any woman he found attractive that he once had. Now he seemed to hunger only for one woman. The very woman who was totally and completely off limits to him. The same one sending him into a dither now.

Jessie.

Searc spun around and caught sight of his disheveled reflection in the mirror mounted above a long chest of drawers.

It was a common misconception, spurred on by fiction, that his kind couldn't see their own reflections. Of course, he could and right now, he looked like hammered shit. It didn't matter. All that mattered was Jessie, and his gut said something was wrong with her.

He grabbed his cell and called Cormag at once, not caring if he woke the master vampire from his slumber. He had to know Jessie was safe and well. He clutched his phone so tight that he wasn't sure how he didn't break it. It rang four times before Cormag picked up.

"Aye? This better be guid. I've been asleep less than two hours," said Cormag, sounding groggy at best.

"It's Searc."

"Did you call to lecture me more on all the evils I've committed in my long life?" asked Cormag, sounding tired. "If so, call back later. I need my beauty sleep and if I might make a suggestion, so do you. Yer an ugly bastard."

"I called about Jessie," said Searc, putting a hand on the wall near him to stay steady as additional tightness formed in his chest. Was he having a vampire's version of a heart attack? Was that even a thing?

"What about her?" demanded Cormag before gasping. "Has something happened to her? Are you with her now? Why are you with her?"

Searc rubbed his chin. "Wait. Yer nae with her?"

"Och, no. You know she chose to live closer to the university she attends and has a condo there. Normally, she's only forty-five minutes from me, but I'm in Scotland right now. She's nae here with me. She's home. In the States. In Virginia. Nae far from you. I couldnae talk her into accompanying me. There are times I swear she's more stubborn than me."

Searc rushed toward his oversized walk-in closet and grabbed a pair of jeans from one of the built- ins. Though he normally preferred to wear a kilt, to hell with what was fashionable. He came from a time and place where all men wore them. Frantic, he grabbed for his boots. "I'm about an hour from your main house. I'll go now."

"What happened?" demanded Cormag. "Islay has nae reached out mentally or by phone. He's overseeing things with Jessie."

Searc paused, his boots in hand. He should have felt settled knowing Cormag's very capable second- in-command was looking after the young woman. Instead, he felt like a caged animal. "Something feels off."

Cormag sighed. "You woke me from a dead sleep after I had a ridiculous flight over here and then spent a night trying to get two different dens of vampires to sit at a table and talk peace because something feels off with my daughter to you?"

Searc grunted. "Aye."

"Yer nae my second-in-command anymore, Searc, or did you forget you walked out on me nearly a hundred years ago? I know you have always been protective of Jessie, even though she came into my life long after you walked out of it, but you cannae think you'd sense danger around her when I do nae? I'm her father. I've always sensed any threats to her. And Islay, who is my second now, has nae reached out mystically to me."

"I get that, Cormag, but I'm telling you that I think something is wrong. I feel like she needs me," he said, wanting the man to fully understand the emotions welling in him.

Cormag was quiet a moment. "You? What would she need with you? When you do grace me with yer presence, you do nae say more than two words to my daughter, and she does nae speak to you. The two of you merely stare at one another from across the room and often run in opposite directions. Are you scared of my twenty-three-year- old daughter? I thought you more a man than that."

Searc couldn't explain it. "Is she at yer main house here or at her condo? I need her condo address if she's there."

"Yer nae going to my daughter. My men have it all well in hand. Carry on with yer own business and concerns."

Searc flipped him off, even though his maker couldn't see him.

Cormag grunted. "I sense what yer doing."

"Can you sense me about to tell you to go fuck yerself ?" asked Searc. "I just woke from a deep sleep concerned for Jessie. I think she's in danger, Cormag. Are you willing to risk her life just to show me how much I'm nae needed there anymore?"

His sire fell silent, and then sighed. "No. I'll contact Islay and phone you back."

Searc slipped his boots on, to hell with socks. He then searched his closet floor for something that resembled a clean t-shirt. He had a maid who came weekly, and she was always yelling at him to use a hamper and to stop leaving dirty clothes laying about. He didn't care. He sniffed an old rock band shirt and shrugged, figuring it was good enough before he pulled it on. He then began to pace the length of his oversized bedroom, positive Cormag would contact him at any moment, telling him something had happened to Islay and Jessie.

Searc thought Islay was a spoiled brat with an authority complex, but that didn't matter. He was effective and powerful. The man could protect Jessie if need be. And Searc was sure the need was there.

It felt like an eternity until his phone rang again. He answered before the first ring was done. "Is she hurt? Does she need me?"

"No," said Cormag, sounding tired once more. "Islay has assured me all is well. He said Jessie is having a lazy morning and is sleeping in after a late night of studying. He says her class this morning was canceled and that she's at the main house, where he can watch over her with ease."

Searc sat on the edge of his king-sized bed, his thoughts a jumbled mess. The tightness in his chest hadn't let up, and he knew it was because of Jessie. Something was off. Something was wrong. His body still screamed at him to go to her. That she did need him. That Cormag was wrong.

"Yer sure?" he demanded.

Cormag groaned. "Yes. I know you and Islay have never seen eye to eye, but he's verra capable. And he cares for Jessie. He wouldnae lie to me. I thank you for yer concern over my daughter, but all is well. I'm going back to sleep. It's only three in the afternoon here."

Searc sat there, staring at his phone, wondering if he should try to get to Jessie. It was daylight out and would prove an issue. He had an underground garage for his cars, and all of the windows in his home and vehicles were treated to help block harmful UV rays, so that wasn't an issue. The problem was anything beyond that. Any unknowns.

He'd do it if she needed him, but it could end poorly for him. He could tolerate direct sun for a very short burst. Nothing more.

Still, for her, he'd try.

He'd never been honest with Cormag about the pull he felt toward Jessie, and since he was fairly sure it was one-sided, he'd never told Jessie of it either.

He continued to debate on going to her. Islay was Cormag's second-in-command now, and that meant he was the most trusted among Cormag's men. If Islay said all was well, there was no reason to doubt him. He wouldn't want a hair on Jessie's head harmed. He'd have to answer to Cormag then, and that wasn't a man anyone wanted gunning for them. Plus, Searc had always gotten the sense that Islay held a torch for Jessie, but that he didn't act on his feelings for the woman either. Probably out of respect for and fear of her father.

The same as Searc.

"Yer overthinking this," he said to himself faintly, looking around his room, realizing how ridiculous he was being. Why would he dream about Jessie? He'd kept his interactions with her over the years to a minimum.

He thought of her again, of when he'd seen her last, nearly two months ago. She'd been leaving her father's home as Searc had been arriving. He'd caught her scent first before he'd seen her, and her smell alone had driven him wild. It had demanded his attention and he'd simply stood there, watching from afar as she made her exit, kissing her father's cheek and then heading to her tiny sports car. He'd honestly considered following her that night, but he'd resisted, unsure he could trust his demon side around her any longer.

It had been acting strange regarding her for nearly six years, and it was only getting worse. Case in point, he'd woken from a dead sleep thinking she was in danger when she was home, tucked safely in her bed.

"Get some sleep and stop obsessing on yer maker's daughter," he said as he slipped off his boots. JESSIE BUCHANAN LIFTED her head from her pillow, positive that her head was now as heavy as a bowling ball. Groaning, she opened her eyes, the light from the window spilling into the room, temporarily blinding her. Disoriented, she lifted a hand, shielding her eyes from the rays.

Was it morning already?

How?

The last thing she remembered was having dinner with Islay, her father's second-in-command. Islay had insisted she stay for dinner even though her father had left the night before for a business trip to Scotland. She'd wanted to head back to her condo, near campus, and get some additional study time in, but Islay had been unrelenting, going so far as to make reservations for the two of them at a trendy restaurant in the heart of the city.

Normally, weekly dinners were prepared by her father's chef and they had them at the main house. She wasn't sure why her father made such a big deal about them. While he could tolerate small amounts of certain foods, he didn't exactly eat. He pretty much had a diet that consisted of blood and nothing else. That didn't change the fact he enjoyed meeting weekly with her while she ate. Every so often, Islay joined them.

As of late, that had been more and more.

Jessie wasn't sure how she felt about that. She liked weekly dinners being just she and her father. He was a busy man, his attentions split between his duties with work and his commitment to his territory and the vampires who resided within it. While he'd always been willing to make time for her, she'd never liked asking him to do so, understanding he was an important man and his attentions were needed elsewhere. Islay was normally with him all the time, though he'd not accompanied her father on the trip to Scotland. He really didn't need the extra time during their weekly dinners to spend with her father. She did. She'd never voiced as much, fearful she'd come off as ungrateful or spoiled. Two things she despised.

Jessie sat up more, trying to get her bearings. Shaken, she rubbed her temple, her head hurting as she stared at her surroundings, slowly realizing she wasn't in her room at the main house. She was in her bedroom at her condo. That was nearly forty- five minutes from the main house and well over an hour from where she'd gone to dinner with Islay.

How had she gotten home?

More importantly, why did she feel hung over? She'd not really had anything to drink at dinner. Islay had ordered a bottle of the best wine they offered, but she'd passed, opting for lemon water instead, much to his dismay. He'd talked her into just a sip to celebrate her upcoming exams and success at the university. She remembered having a small taste of the wine and then nothing else.

Looking down at herself, she realized she was in a pair of her favorite pajamas, but she didn't remember driving home at all, let alone doing so and then changing for bed. Panic welled in her and she reached for her cell phone.

Usually, if she felt threatened or worried, she called her father. He was one of her best friends and a damn fine protector. The urge to find Searc's contact information on her phone hit her hard. Why on earth would she want to contact a man who used to be her father's second-in-command, long before she was born? A man who popped in and out of her life seemingly at random? Calling Islay should have felt right; after all, he was close and was who her father had left in charge in his absence.

But it wasn't Islay she wanted.

She wanted Searc. He represented safety to her at the moment. No one else did.

As she brought her phone closer to her, she saw it was off.

That was strange.

She never shut it off.

When she tried to turn it on, she realized it wasn't simply off. It was dead. It hadn't been charged. Peculiar. She was very good about charging her phone and keeping it on. And her phone had great battery life. It had been fully charged at dinner and should have lasted her a day or more with as little usage as she put on it. It shouldn't have been off and dead. Keeping it charged had been part of the deal she'd made with her father, for allowing her to live near campus. It simply wasn't something she overlooked or forgot.

Jessie leaned, reaching down near the nightstand for her charging cord. She found it and plugged in her phone. The need to call Searc began to wane slightly, and she closed her eyes again, her head still feeling heavy. Something was wrong with her. She shouldn't be this tired, this out of it, and she certainly shouldn't have been missing blocks of time.

"Searc," she whispered, wanting him. His name was the last thing that fell from her lips before darkness claimed her, pulling her into a deep sleep.

Chapter Two

Jessie sipped her latte under the shade of the deep green umbrella of the two-man bistro set as she leaned back in her chair, her hands going to her lower stomach. The smallest of bumps was there, and she nearly groaned at how bloated she'd been feeling as of late. She caressed the area without thought before clearing her throat and putting her hands on the table.

There was a slight nip in the air, and she regretted leaving her sweater in the car. She often ran on the side of cold and normally never left home without something to keep her warm. After getting little in the way of sleep because of recurring nightmares, she'd found herself running behind for her coffee meeting.

One of her best friends sat across from her, sipping a cup of tea, also hiding from the sun. Both women had vampire DNA in their bloodline and made it a point to try to avoid noonday sun whenever possible. They burned easily, and no amount of sunscreen seemed to help. It was why they enjoyed meeting for first-morning coffee when their class schedules and commitments permitted.

Of course, humans weren't allowed to know the truth about supernaturals, so it was extra nice to be friends with someone who already knew things that went bump in the night were real. Hell, she and Meena were related to most of the creatures humans feared. But they knew the truth, that not all vampires, shifters, and other supernaturals were evil. Some were good, loving, and had families of their own to protect. Such was the case with Jessie's father and Meena's father and grandfather. They loved their families and used what they were to help people and to protect humans and supernaturals.

The women generally didn't meet with overgrown, muscle-bound babysitters in tow, like they had today. Jessie glanced across the courtyard to find two of her father's men there, each holding coffees of their own, seemingly unconcerned that she was annoyed with their presence. If their goal was to blend with the students, they were failing miserably. They both looked like they could bench- press a school bus and had hair just past their shoulders and close-cut beards. They were men in a sea of boys in comparison, and from their cocky expressions, they knew as much.

Figures.

They'd been constants during the daylight hours for the past four months. Since her father had gone to Scotland to help broker peace deals between warring vampire dens. It was something of a specialty for him, mostly because he'd not played for the side of good long enough for anyone in the supernatural community to forget what he was capable of, so they tended to shut up and listen when he spoke. He'd first thought the negotiations would take a month at best. They'd run over, and so had the babysitting gig for his men who were still stateside.

There had been no way her father would go off to another country and not see to it she had a full- time protection detail. His first line of defense was Islay. But Islay had certain restrictions during daylight hours because he was a vampire. That was where the shifters came in. They worked for her father but weren't part of his vampire den.

The men raised their cups and nodded to her. She grunted, knowing their shifter senses were keen enough for them to hear her annoyance.

They grinned, and the one on the right—Erik —pushed his sunglasses up his nose before blowing a kiss in her direction. She nearly laughed, but resisted, not wanting to encourage them. Both men were Paranormal Regulators (Para-Regs) and both were on her nerves.

Para-Regs were the supernatural community's version of the police. Paranormal Security and Intelligence (PSI) was much like the CIA. At least that was how it had been explained to her once before. The whole thing was very cloak-and-dagger and didn't really do much for Jessie, so she tended to tune her father out when he spoke about it all.

Erik and Shane were great guys, but they'd become her shadows throughout daylight hours. She'd half expected to walk into one while exiting the ladies' room in the coffee shop some twenty minutes prior. It wouldn't have shocked her in the least, as Erik was a perv who would have thought it was hilarious to set off a restroom full of women.

What she did know was that her father was high up with the Para-Regs and had an entire precinct that answered to him. That was how she'd gotten saddled with shifter babysitters. They were her father's eyes and ears during the daylight hours. When her father—a master vampire—couldn't be out and about with any sort of ease.

Meena glanced toward the men. "Is that Erik?"

It didn't surprise Jessie that Meena knew the men. Her father, who was a vampire as well, was also part of the Para-Regs. He was a detective who had a reputation as a man who closed cases. It stood to reason that Meena knew a fair number of the local Regulators. "Yes. He's one of my current sitters."

"Who is that with him?"

"Shane. He's nice. Not as in-your-face as Erik."

Meena laughed. "So a gentleman where Erik is pretty much the opposite, but still manages to be a nice guy?"

Jessie nodded and stifled a giggle. The assessment of the man was accurate. "Erik is less annoying than last month's babysitter, but only barely. Last month, Whitney pulled a week's worth of shifts."

"Whitney as in my dad's partner?" Meena asked, her eyes widening.

Jessie groaned. "Yes."

Whitney was an incredibly sexy blond wolf- shifter who tended to be a total smart-ass and take very little serious in his life. He liked fast cars and even faster women. He also enjoyed pushing people's buttons.

"Oh dear gods, I'm sorry. I'm stunned you didn't kill him." Meena offered a sympathetic look.

Jessie smiled wide. "I'm surprised your father hasn't killed him. I can't imagine the two of them as partners."

Meena shrugged. "I'm told there once was a time my dad was a lot like Whitney."

"Two of them? And the world didn't implode?" She could see Meena's dad being similar. He'd always had a badass vibe about him and didn't hold his tongue often.

Meena laughed. "I'm sorry you got stuck with him as a babysitter. And I'm sorry your dad is insisting you be followed around by Para-Regs. I really thought my grandfather and my dad took the cake when it came to alpha-male jerk moves. Yours wins. Hands down."

Jessie did laugh at that. "Oh yeah. He may need a crown or something for King of the Stubborn Alpha Vampires."

Meena grinned. "But you know he loves you and I'm sure it's killing him having to be away from you this long. I'm guessing he's tried hard to convince you to fly over there and be closer to him."

Jessie glanced at her friend. "I have to admit he's shown amazing restraint by not having me abducted and simply brought to him. Totally a dad move."

Meena smiled wide. "I could see Cormag doing that. He's learning, Jessie. You don't think he is, but you're right, from what my dad has told me about how he used to be, he'd have totally had you simply brought to him. The older version of him wouldn't have cared what you wanted."

Jessie knew her friend was right. It was a big deal that her father had left her home to go off for so long. It didn't matter that she was technically an adult now. Age was merely a number to him, and while she'd been alive nearly twenty-four years, and was nearly done with her master's degree, that was just a blink of the eye to him. Especially with how old he was.

Meena sipped her tea. "I'm guessing you miss him even though you don't want to admit it."

She was right. Jessie did miss her father. They were close. He was one of her best friends. "I do. I don't miss his constant hovering and nonstop worrying, but I miss him. I miss our weekly dinners. You know, the ones where he pushes food around on his plate, pretending to be normal, while I eat and he grills me about any man who may or may not be in my life? Oddly, I find the dinners amusing. Or I used to. Islay started coming to a number of them before Dad left and then wanted to keep having them while Dad was away."

"Still avoiding Islay?" asked Meena, perking as she did.

Talk of Islay left Jessie squirming in her chair. She glanced toward Erik and Shane and found them to be checking out hot girls who walked by. The coffee shop was just off campus, so it had an overabundance of young co-eds. The men had obviously taken notice. That meant they weren't paying attention to her—for now.

"Reading any good books?" asked Jessie, wanting off the topic of Islay.

Meena watched her carefully, suspicion in her eyes. "Yes, but you already know that, since we share our monthly reading lists. You're as geeky as I am. So, back to the subject that you tried artfully to dodge. Islay."

She lowered her voice. "I don't really want to talk about it now."

Meena glimpsed at the babysitters and then back at Jessie. "You still haven't told them, have you?"

"Tell them what? That I pushed myself too hard with exams and school, burning the candle at both ends, and it caught up with me? When I asked Islay about our dinner, he gave off this strange vibe, like I was nuts for not remembering everything that happened after it. So, basically, I pretended I did remember."

Meena huffed, setting her tea down, a skeptical look crossing her face. "Jessie, you went to dinner with Islay, and that is the last thing you remember until you woke up in your bed, at your condo, days later. And let's not forget the clothing in your hamper. The stuff that wasn't yours and was dirty and caked in blood. How did it get there? What happened to you over the weekend?"

She reddened slightly. "Islay mentioned I'd had a bit too much wine at dinner. I mean, I probably did, but I only remember having one small sip. And I hadn't slept right in a couple of weeks because of school stuff. Everything caught up with me. I crashed hard."

"And the clothing? It was a like hospital-issue gown or something," said Meena, not letting up one bit. "Jessie, you should have told your dad about it."

"No!" she said, louder than she'd meant to. Thankfully, she didn't draw Erik's or Shane's attention.

"I should have told mine," whispered Meena.

Jessie grabbed Meena's hand. "No. You promised."

"I know, but it feels wrong."

"It was nearly four months ago. I'm fine. Nothing came of it all." As she said it, her hand returned to her abdomen. She found herself keeping her hand there in a protective manner.

Her friend glanced at her and laughed. "You know I love you, right?"

"Yes, why?" asked Jessie, noticing the temperature was finally starting to rise for the day.

"Are you about to get your period or something?" questioned Meena with a quirk of her lips.

Jessie sat up and took notice. "Maybe. You know I'm kind of crap at remembering when mine is coming. We normally sync up. Is yours due?"

"Had mine two weeks ago."

Jessie's brow crinkled. "Why ask about mine?"

"Because you tried to talk me into kettle corn and ketchup this morning in place of meeting for coffee and I swear you look like your stomach is bloating. This is said with love."

Jessie laughed, not taking offense. "Oh yeah. Because saying it without love—"

"Hey. You tell me when I'm about to get mine. I get puffy around my eyes even, and you always point it out. No shame in the pre-period weight gain. We all suffer from it. I wish men retained water monthly. And bled for five days straight."

"They'd die after the first hour," said Jessie, making her friend snicker.

"So true."

Jessie kept her hand on her stomach and thought back to the last time she'd menstruated. She couldn't actually pinpoint a date but knew it had been a bit. She wasn't regular, so she didn't think too much on it. With a sigh, she patted the small bump on her lower stomach. "I must have some serious water retention going on because I think I skipped a month or so with my period."

"Again?" asked Meena. "Jessie, I told you to go see Dr. Sambora. He's the one I told you about who does shifts with the Para-Regs but is full-time with the local PSI branch. Just because we're not like normal women doesn't mean we should neglect our health."

"I know. I'll get an appointment with him," said Jessie, glancing over to find Erik and Shane watching her again. Shane's face was red, and he avoided any real eye contact. Erik was all smiles. She grunted, knowing full well they'd heard her talk about her period. "Great. Dumb and Ass heard."

Meena sipped her tea again, her attention going to the men and then back to Jessie. "You have to admit they aren't bad on the eyes."

Jessie snorted.

Erik and Shane took an interest in a group of sorority girls who were in t-shirts and shorts so tiny they were barely there. That was fine by Jessie. If they were focused on women, they weren't eavesdropping with their preternatural senses, and they weren't listening to talk of her period.

Jessie wrapped her hand around her latte, as she studied the men's profiles from afar. "Yes, they're good looking. Not the point. I don't want them knowing my cycle, and I don't need to be followed around nonstop."

"They can smell when we bleed. Gross, but true. And don't be too sure that you don't need them following you around. Pretty sure our argument a second ago says otherwise." Meena's posture suggested that she wasn't about to drop the subject of Jessie missing days anytime soon. If roles had been reversed, Jessie would have been the same way.

Jessie tensed. She'd thought of telling her personal bodyguards about what had happened more than once, but she knew what they'd do. They'd run straight to her father, giving him all the ammunition he'd require to take what little freedom he'd afforded her. He'd never let her out of his line of sight again. "They're not the dream police. They can't help."

"Dream police? Spill it, girl. What haven't you told me?" asked Meena, all ears.

Jessie took a deep breath. "Nightmares. I've been having them for months."

"Since you blacked out?" There was a look in Meena's eyes that truly caused worry in Jessie.

Reluctantly, Jessie nodded.

Concern lanced Meena's face. "What are they about?"

"I don't really remember much about them. It's fuzzy when I wake up in a cold sweat. I know I'm terrified of someone or something, but I couldn't tell you what. I do know before it all, I'd have run to Islay for help, but not now. Now I want to run to someone else. Someone I shouldn't be thinking about at all, let alone like that."

Meena watched her. "Do the nightmares have anything to do with why you got your academic advisor changed from Rudy?"

The very name made Jessie flinch. She clasped her hands under the table, out of Meena's line of sight. Nervous energy filled her. "I know you have feelings for Rudy, but I just needed a change."

"You still don't approve of me dating him, do you?" asked Meena.

"No, but that hasn't stopped you. I have a lot of guilt for being the reason you met him," confessed Jessie. "If I wouldn't have needed to drop off a paper to him, the two of you wouldn't have met."

"He's good to me. He makes me smile, and he says he loves me."

Jessie cringed. "Meena, I can't explain it. But I really don't think he's the guy for you."

"But I like him. It would mean a lot if you tried to like him too," said Meena.

"I know. Trust me. I know," she said, taking a drink of her latte. She'd almost gone with tea, as Meena had, because her stomach had been touchy as of late, but her coffee addiction knew no bounds and wouldn't be stopped.

Meena pushed her long dark hair back from her face. "So, while we're on the subject of my boyfriend, Rudy asked me something really weird the other night."

Jessie tensed, unsure she wanted to hear. She didn't have the heart to tell her friend that her nightmares had something to do with Rudy. While she only remembered bits and pieces when she woke, the ones she did were of Rudy coming at her with syringes of something, telling someone to hold her down. And the other images she remembered from her dreams were of Rudy's teaching assistant —Tyler. He struck fear in her.

Even without the dreams and the off feeling she'd always had around Rudy, Jessie wasn't a fan of her friend dating a professor at their university. It had less to do with the age difference and him being a teacher there than the fact there was something about Professor Rudy that she couldn't put her finger on. Whatever it was, it made Jessie leery of him, but her concerns had fallen on deaf ears. Meena was shy and didn't open up to many people. The fact she was dating at all was a big step.

Meena eyed her and sighed. "I know you don't approve."

"He's fine," said Jessie, sipping her latte. "What did he ask you?"

"It was about—" Meena leaned in and lowered her voice, "—sex."

All ears, Jessie moved her chair closer to Meena. "You're not seriously going to have sex with him, are you? I thought you were saving yourself for marriage." They'd been friends a long time, despite their families having longstanding feuds that dated back to historic Scotland days. Of course, when immortal males who were present for the original battles were still around, it tended to mean old feelings died hard.

Meena's grandfather had been head of his own clan of Highlanders back in the day and still was, though now he was a vampire, as were most of his men. The same was true of Jessie's father. Both men were master vampires now and both hardheaded Scots. But they knew better than to try to come between the girls and their friendship. Even immortals feared something, and apparently master vampires were afraid of tears from their daughters or granddaughters.

Suckers.

"I do want to save myself for marriage, but Rudy keeps pushing for sex," she said, her voice still low.

"He's a shifter," said Jessie, hoping her babysitters were still too preoccupied with hot chicks to listen to their conversation. "He could hurt you without meaning to."

Meena grunted. "I'm regretting blurting out wolf in front of you when you turned in that paper to him and I first met him. You'd have never figured out he was a shifter if I hadn't."

Jessie simply stared at her friend, letting her vent.

Meena blushed. "He wants to have sex and thinks if I chain him we could maybe do it without any risk to me."

Jessie flung back in her chair, her eyes wide. "What? Are you kidding me?"

Meena shook her head.

"You're a virgin and he wants to bring in whips and chains for your first time? Run away, Meena. Run far and fast."

Meena huffed. "You're a virgin too."

"And I'm not talking about chaining a guy to do him, am I?"

"No," Meena returned with a sigh.

"If you're not ready, tell him."

"Rose is sexually active," Meena said, as if that meant she should be too.

Jessie groaned. "Your sister talks a big game, but I'm betting most of that is for show. I don't think she does half of what she claims she does with men. I think she just likes to push your buttons. I'm an only child, but that seems like classic little sister behavior."

Meena nodded. "You're probably right. And then there are the whole funky feelings I've developed for a certain someone."

Smiling, Jessie crossed one leg over the other. "Is this certain someone your grandfather's second?"

Meena blushed. "I can't help it. Bhaltair is so yummy to look at."

Jessie agreed. She'd seen the man more than once. He was Meena's grandfather's second-in- command, and he didn't lack in the least in the way of sex appeal. "Go for that one. I approve of him."

Meena gasped. "I could never. Besides, he sees me as too human."

Jessie flinched for her friend, understanding all too well the pain of feeling less than extraordinary in a sea full of immortal bad-asses. She also knew what had happened during a training session between Bhaltair and Meena. "I get it."

"I know," confessed Meena. "It's why I talk to you about it, but no one else. Rose has slayer-like skills, and she doesn't break at the slightest touch. I do. Bhaltair still hasn't trained me since the accident. I told him it wasn't his fault. I know he didn't mean to hurt me. I feel like all he does is avoid me now."

She patted her friend's hand. "Hey, at least your dad and grandfather let you train. Mine refuses to allow me around anything to do with violence. I'm pretty sure he'd put me in a giant bubble if he could. It's certainly been all he could handle letting me live close to campus—a whole forty-five minutes from him. Not to mention he's now in Scotland, and I'm here—with babysitters."

Meena laughed. "Oh, for sure. Cormag cannot handle the idea of you growing up. Will Islay be around tonight again?"

At the mention of Islay, Jessie groaned. "I told him to stay away, that I'm fine, but he ignores me. I saw him last night, outside, near the tree by the edge of the condo property. He just stands there watching my place, as if he's afraid bad guys will attack at any minute."

A shiver ran up Jessie's spine as she thought back to the night she'd gone to dinner with Islay. She'd accepted an invite from Islay for dinner and a movie, but she couldn't remember ever making it to the movie, despite Islay telling her they had. Unease settled in her gut as she tried to focus on that night.

Meena snickered and sipped her tea, drawing Jessie from her thoughts. "At least he's good looking. Tall, blond, very attractive, and powerful."

"You want me to ask him out for you?" teased Jessie, the pull in her gut getting worse. "Oh, wait. We both know you prefer your guys with dark hair."

Meena lifted a brow. "And you don't? Tell me about your dad's ex-second. What's his name again?"

Meena knew the man's name. She just wanted to hear Jessie say it. Typically, Jessie blushed when she did.

"Searc." A blush stole her cheeks.

"Right." Meena laughed.

Jessie tossed a sugar packet at Meena. "Dork. Stop making it out like I have a crush on him. I don't."

Okay, she did, but still.

"Really? Could have fooled me. You talk about him enough whenever the subject of hot men comes up," reminded Meena.

Jessie lifted her latte. "Sue me. He's super hot."

He was around six and a half feet tall, with long dark hair, a scruffy beard, a honed body, tanned skin, and the ability to stand up to her father with ease. Something not many ever did. It didn't hurt that he was funny either. She had always liked men who could make her laugh.

Meena's cell pinged and she lifted it, reading the screen. "Rose wants to know if we want to go out drinking with her tonight."

"She's not twenty-one yet," said Jessie, forgetting for a moment who she was talking about. Rose was a wildcat and more than likely had a fake ID. Probably more than one.

"When has that ever stopped my sister?" asked Meena, shaking her head. "She's just trying to act out because she's got training this weekend with Bhaltair. I was planning to go and maybe read while they worked out. Then I had to pick up a dress I had made, and a book I ordered might come in to the library."

"The dress I went with you to Carol's to have fitted is done?" asked Jessie. The girls both used the dressmaker. She tended to make them things they couldn't find on store shelves.

Meena smiled. "I'm going to wear it on a date with Rudy."

Stifling a groan, Jessie eyed her friend. "And just like that, I'm hoping you go drinking with Rose tonight and not on a date with Rudy."

Meena laughed. "You know, you and Rose look like you could be sisters way more than she and I do. You've got the same long red hair. Though you lack her wild streak."

"Good thing. The world could not handle two of her in it." Jessie grinned.

Meena shifted in her seat slightly to avoid the sun as it moved. They'd been fine this early in the morning, but as the day wore on, they'd likely burn.

"Agree." Meena texted Rose back and then set her phone on the table. "I told her I have to study and that you're going to spend the night binge- watching something on the Internet. It's so your speed."

It was. Jessie was far from wild.

"You know, you could call Searc," said Meena, grinning.

"I'll call him and ask him out if you call Bhaltair and do the same." Searc had once been her father's second, but they'd had a falling-out of sorts nearly a hundred years back. That didn't change the fact that Cormag had sired Searc, so there was a maker bond in place, as well as mutual respect for one another.

"Never mind," said Meena.

"That is what I thought." Jessie touched her coffee cup lightly. "Drop Rudy and go for Bhaltair; my gut says Rudy is no good for you."

"You know, all his other students seem to adore him, but not you," Meena mused. "And the way you act when his teaching assistant is around…I swear, Jessie, you act like Tyler is a serial killer or something."

"I do not," she said, cold skating up her arms at the very mention of Tyler. She had to shake thoughts of her nightmares from her head to even be able to speak. "Okay, maybe I do. He doesn't give you the creeps?"

"No. He seems nice enough to me and he is totally into you," added Meena. "He's mentioned you to Rudy enough that Rudy even asked about possibly double dating."

"Oh, don't make me part of your breaking the rules and seeing a professor." Jessie drank more of her latte. "That is all you, babes. And no way am I dating Tyler."

Meena snorted. "Okay, but go easy on him. He seems sweet enough."

There was something off about him. He had the same implacable characteristic that Rudy had— the one that set her on edge around him. Not to mention she kept seeing him in her dreams. And what she remembered of the dreams didn't paint Tyler in a good light at all.

"Jessie, you're making that face again. The one that says you don't trust Tyler and Rudy."

"I don't." Her cell rang, and she glanced at the screen. "It's my dad."

"Shouldn't he be sleeping this time of day?" asked Meena.

Nodding, Jessie answered. "Daddy?"

"Lass, am I catching you at a bad time?" he asked, his Scottish brogue evident.

"Not at all. I'm having coffee with Meena, but I'm guessing your henchmen already told you as much." She waved at the Para-Regs who were looking in her direction again.

They waved back.

She flipped them off, and they laughed.

Erik licked his lips and nodded.

Meena snorted. "Oh, look, he's taking you up on your offer."

Jessie's eyes widened and she nearly yelped.

Her father mumbled, "Och, lass, do nae take that tone with me. I want you safe."

She sighed. "I know."

"Can you find some free time tonight?" he asked.

"Please don't tell me I have to go to dinner with Islay again," she said before thinking better of it.

"No. I was thinking you could meet me for dinner at the main house."

She paused. "Wait. You're home?"

"I will be by sunset," he said. "And I've missed you. Take pity on yer old father and come see me."

She smiled. "I'll be there, Daddy. Just give me a few hours."