Flipping it open, she booted it up and went immediately to her e-mail account. There were three new messages in among the spam; all were from students. Just to be on the safe side, she left all of them unopened. She’d just been curious to see if anyone had noticed she was missing. Apparently not. If she’d still been part of the Hunter community, they’d have been over at her place the next day to see if she was sick. Even if the community was toxic, it had been a home.
She closed that browser window and opened another, tapping in the URL for a private site she’d discovered a few months ago. She keyed in a password—it had taken her some effort to figure it out, but not all that long, considering—and waited while the site let her in.
It was Hunter central, pulling in info from the European tribes as well as her own. The main component was message boards, a lot of them in languages other than English. She clicked open the one marked “North America” and scanned the new entries.
There he was. Max, her brother. She looked at the name with longing, wishing there was some way in hell she could let him know she was still here, still anxious to hear that he was all right. It was an itch as strong as any drug addiction, and just as hard to shake.
She read the message he had posted: “Following Big Red. Back later.”
Big red was Hunter slang for vampires. Red for blood. Max was on a hunt. Or had been. The message was almost two weeks old. Worry clamped around her heart, squeezing painfully. Why hasn’t he posted since?
A feeling of angst cramped her gut. Some of Belenos’s clan had tried to be nice to her, even if she’d been nothing short of hostile. Slowly, reluctantly, she’d begun to see them as people. Who were you going after, Max? Did they really deserve it?
It wasn’t the first time she’d had the thought, but it was the clearest. It made her stomach cramp with anxiety. Don’t kill anyone I know, okay?
She logged out and closed the netbook, letting her hands linger on the cover. Afraid of detection, she never lingered on the site long. It was the only link she had to home, and she wasn’t going to risk losing it—no matter how queasy news from her old life made her feel.
Sliding the netbook back into her bag, she went back to the pile of her belongings on the dresser. No ID, no guns, no money. The police had probably taken the first two, and Lore didn’t know about the cash hidden under her bedroom floorboards. She might have to wait a while before she could safely retrieve it, but there was no question that she’d do it. She’d need money to make a fresh start someplace else.
Talia searched through the clothes, trying to find a complete outfit. It was a man’s selection. Half were practical things—sturdy socks and plain T-shirts, her coat and sturdy boots—and the rest were filmy excerpts from the realm of male fantasy. How embarrassing. He’d obviously found her lingerie drawer. In the end, she settled on jeans and a sweater, and headed for the shower.
When she walked out of the bathroom, she heard a rustle and the low murmur of the television. She padded barefoot into the living room. A newspaper scattered the floor. Something that looked like a disemboweled toaster littered the coffee table, half-repaired.
Lore was leaning back on the couch, eyes closed. He looked utterly exhausted. His breath was coming on a slight snore.
Talia’s approach hadn’t wakened him. That wasn’t a surprise. All vampires moved with near silence.
And she was lost in his good looks. He wasn’t pretty, like Joe, but his features were cut cleanly, the bones broad and strong. It was the kind of face that would only improve with age. She wondered who he looked like, his mother or father. Which one had given him the slight cleft in the chin? Which one had passed on that sweep of dark eyelashes?
Where had he gotten that sense of fair play that made him protect a wanted vampire, just in case she was innocent? Yes, he’d held her prisoner, but he hadn’t hurt her, and he’d let her go. Talia was well aware that it could have gone so very differently.
She took a silent step closer to the couch. Whatever sixth sense that made hellhounds good guardians kicked in. Lore started awake, bolting to his feet before he was fully conscious.
Talia held up her hands, palms out. “Easy. It’s just me.”
He relaxed, letting out a huge breath. “Sorry. I dozed off. I’ve been with the pack during the day and up most of the night.”
“Pulling double shifts?”
“Yeah.” He rubbed his eyes, sinking back onto the couch. “I dropped by to check on things here.”
Check on me. Talia felt unaccountably warmed by the idea.
Lore scrubbed his face, as if to wake himself up. “I’ve got my best hounds looking for Belenos, but so far no joy. Last time he came, he hid right under our noses in the Castle. I don’t think he’ll try that one again, but he’ll come up with something equally clever.”
“We’re only guessing that it’s him.”
“That’s why I haven’t raised a general alarm. I want proof before I start a panic.” He looked up. “I got fresh blood. Will that hold you for an hour or two?”
“Uh, great. Thanks. I’ll get some in a minute. And thank you for getting my stuff. You ran a risk to do that—I mean, it’s bad enough you’re hiding me, but you broke into a crime scene to get my toothbrush.”
He looked up, clearly a little pleased with himself. “The biggest risk was going through your closet. I could have been killed by an avalanche of shoes.”
“Yeah, well, a girl needs her footwear.” She sank onto the other end of the couch and looked at the TV. Scooby-Doo cartoons. “That your hero?”
“I thought it might inspire my detective skills.”
She couldn’t help a laugh. That earned her a grin. He had the best smile, all white teeth and mischief. Then she noticed how big he was, filling his end of the couch with long, muscled limbs.
Her mouth went dry, her palms prickling with unfocused nerves. She curled up, tucking her feet under her. As always, she was a little cold.
She could feel his body heat even with an arm’s span between them. “What sort of things does an Alpha do for his pack?”
He made a dismissive gesture. “A lot of different things. I deal with the human world on the pack’s behalf. I represent the hounds on the council of nonhumans, so I’m the liaison with other species. We have a business that recycles things, like furniture and mechanical parts, and I run that. I settle disputes and oversee building projects —we’re renovating a lot of the houses we bought to bring them up to code. The pack does a lot of security work in Fairview, and I’m the deputy sheriff, except right now I’m the sheriff in charge.”
No wonder he’s tired. But she could see he was proud, too. The hounds had come from nothing. Their success owed a lot to his drive. “What’s it like, being in a pack? Do your parents live here?”
Leaning forward, he picked up a piece of the toaster and fiddled with it. “My parents died in the Castle.”
“I’m sorry.”
He gave a slight shrug, universal guy-speak for something he couldn’t or didn’t want to talk about. “Being part of a pack is never being alone, even when you need to be. That’s why I have this place. I get a bit of peace and quiet.”
“You have a lot of responsibilities.” Understatement of the decade.
“An Alpha is father to his people.” He gave the words an ironic twist. “Seriously, they’re my family. Why wouldn’t I do what I could to help them?”
Talia envied him with a swift, sharp pain. Even with everything his position demanded, it had to be worth it. He wasn’t alone. She looked down, staring at the tweedy pattern of the couch cover.
He passed her a section of the paper. “Fashion column?”
She took it automatically, not sure why he’d offered it. Then she realized it gave her something to hide behind, a safety screen. For a guy—for a demon-dog—Lore was surprisingly perceptive. Enough to make a girl self-conscious.
She folded the section back to see the editorial. It was her first go-to spot in the paper, though she wasn’t sure how he’d known. Oh, wait. He’d seen her closet. She read the caption under a photo of a woman in a boxy dress. “Wow. The return of shoulder pads. Now, that’s real horror.”
From the corner of her eye, she caught him watching her, his dark eyes intent. She understood that look. He
