A Hunger Like No Other

caught it and wrenched his arm back. 'Still feel guilty for that one punch when we were boys? Again—I eventually woke. Now, look and give your mate more credit.'

Lachlain did, but at the same time he raised his other elbow to jab it back in Bowe's face.

Emma slammed her forehead against Cass's nose. Lachlain hesitated.

'Your Emmaline is no' even the least bit out of breath. And if she does no' do this now, she'll be constantly challenged. You forget, we're a vicious breed that worships strength,' Bowe added the last in a sneer as if he was quoting someone.

'Damn it, it does no' matter, she's small. She's coming off injuries—'

'She's wily and someone's trained her,' Bowe observed coolly, releasing Lachlain when Emma gained room beneath Cass, then kicked out with both feet so fast it was a blur. She connected solidly with Cass's chest, sending her across the room. Lachlain shook his head, disbelieving his eyes.

Bowe in the meantime had gotten a scotch and pulled up chairs.

Cass threw her hair out of her face. 'You'll pay for that one, leech.'

Emma gave her a bored look as she gracefully stood, but her eyes had fired silver. 'Bring it on.'

Bowe was right—she wasn't out of breath whatsoever.

Cass rose to the challenge. She leapt at Emma, tackling her with her larger size, then gave a sharp jab at Emma's mouth.

Lachlain roared with fury, vaulting over the rail. Before he could reach them, Emma slashed out her claws at Cass, wriggled out from under her, then leapt to her feet to fully swing the back of her hand.

Lachlain knew that hit.

Cass landed against the opposite wall, a tapestry collapsing over her. She didn't get up.

Bowen dropped down behind him, exhaled, and added, 'The only thing that could've made that wrestling any better was Jell-O.'

When Lachlain reached Emma, he took her by the shoulders, but she jerked in reaction and punched out at him, connecting with his right eye. He clenched his jaw, shook it off, and ran his gaze over her, examining her for injuries. He winced to see the cut marring her bottom lip and yanked out his shirttail to brush against it, but she hissed in a breath.

'That hurts you?'

Bowe helped Cass up and dragged her over.

'What the fuck is going on here?' Lachlain bellowed at Cass, then immediately turned to Emma and said, 'I apologize.'

She frowned at him. 'So put a quarter in the cuss jar. Whatever.' She pressed the back of her hand against her still bleeding lip.

'Lachlain, you're alive!' Cass cried, running for him. The look he gave her made her slow, expression confused, then stop completely.

'What happened to you?' she asked. 'And who is this vampire that has free run of Kinevane?'

Emma looked from Cass up to Lachlain as if she couldn't wait to hear this one.

'She's to be treated as an honored guest.'

While Cass gaped, Bowe turned to Emma and said, 'I am Bowen, an old friend of Lachlain's. I've spent the afternoon hearing all about you. Pleased to meet you.'

While Emma tilted her head at him, wary, Cassandra finally managed, 'And when did leeches become guests?'

Lachlain grabbed her elbow. 'Doona ever call her that again.'

At the insult, Emma's eyes turned silver once more. As she turned on her heel for the door, Lachlain heard her mumble in an odd voice, 'Screw you guys…I'm going home.'

With a last glare at Cass, he followed, in time to see Emma catch her own reflection in a mirror.

She jumped back, startled.

Her hair was wild and the silver in her eyes glittered and moved like mercury. Blood streamed down her chin, and her fangs, though small, looked wickedly sharp. One tear drop had streaked down her temple, leaving a line behind. He saw her pat her face as if she couldn't believe her reflection. Then she gave a short, bitter laugh. Their eyes met.

He knew what she was thinking. And it saddened him, even as he knew it helped his cause.

She was thinking she was just as much a monster as he was.

'This is no' finished, vampire,' Cass said.

Emma shot around with an expression so menacing it gave him chills. 'Not in any way,' she hissed, and stalked off.

It took Lachlain a moment to form words. 'Bowe, take care of this,' he said without taking his eyes from Emma.

'Aye, but you need to tell her,' he called after. 'Now.'

Emma looked creepy.

As she stared into the mirror in her bathroom, washing her hands and face, she noted that though her fangs had receded, her eyes wouldn't return to their usual color and her lips were redder than usual.

Creepy. Just like the thing that had faced her in the mirror downstairs, the thing that was straight from a creature feature. When she'd patted her face, she'd found blood on her nails from where she'd swiped the Lykae across the belly.

Red of tooth and claw? I'm your girl…

She recalled Lachlain in his changed form, and didn't shudder at the image as she usually did. Because wasn't it all relative?

A knock on the door. She'd known he would come after her, but she'd hoped he would at least take time to explain things to the other two. Apparently, he'd dissed them to come right after her.

Still…'Go away!'

'I ken you want your privacy, but—'

'Go—away! I don't want you to see me like this—'

And just like that, the door burst open.

She quickly closed her eyes. 'What did I just say?'

'Wanting your privacy is one thing, but hiding your face from me will no' do, Emma.' He turned her to him.

She was mortified even more because he knew she was. Her aunts' eyes turned this way, but it looked so normal in them, expected even with sharp emotion.

'Open your eyes.'

When she wouldn't, he said, 'This is no' the first time I've seen them like this.'

That got her to open them. Wide. 'What do you mean?' She could tell by the way he stared that they were still that freaky color. 'Look at you staring! This is what I wanted to avoid. When have you ever seen them like this?'

'They turn when you drink from me. I'm staring now because if your eyes even flicker silver, I want you.'

'I don't believe—'

He placed her hand on his rigid erection.

The memory from the night in the hotel bloomed in her mind, and her fingers curled around it, about to stroke… The memory—the confusing memory from his point of view. She wrested her hand away.

'But my eyes are weird,' she insisted, unable to face him. 'And I can't control it.'

'I find them beautiful.'

Damn it! Why did he have to be so damn accepting? 'Well, I didn't find your change as appealing then.'

'I know. I can live with that if you can.'

'Great. Not only do you seem to have gotten past your prejudice with me, now you're accepting that I don't accept you. Are you trying to make me feel like an ass?'

'Never. I just want you to know that I am sorry for what happened.'