The moment Destiny placed her foot on the steps in front of the church, she felt the vibrations of violence. She had tried to leave Seattle, go back to being a nomad, roaming the world, but after several risings, she had reluctantly returned. She had deliberately stayed away from the neighborhood, determined to move on. Determined not to care about any of them. Not purple or pink-haired ladies or Mary Ann or Nicolae. None of them mattered to her. Not a single one.

But she was a woman of honor. She had unfinished business with Velda and Inez; she'd given her word, so she had no choice but to return. She told herself honor was her only reason, but it was a lie and weighed heavily on her heart.

Destiny stared at the church doors. She had come back to this place, her one anchor, her last refuge, her sanctuary. Even in this holy place, something evil had followed her. She moved up the stairs cautiously, her footfalls silent, almost gliding above ground. She moved with all the stealth of a hunter. Destiny's hand was steady as she pushed open the doors to the church. At once she scented blood. The smell was nearly overpowering, a dark richness that beckoned and warned. She felt her heart accelerate and her pulse jump. The palms of her hands were sweaty as she widened the opening. Her stomach knotted, and hunger heightened into a terrible craving.

She scanned the church, found no one hiding, but the reverberations of violence were strong. She lifted her foot and hesitated, trepidation filling her soul. "Father Mulligan?" She called out his name softly and resolutely stepped across the threshold.

Nothing happened. Not a single lightning bolt slammed down from the sky to incinerate her for such a sacrilege. Her heart settled down to a steady rhythm as she gained confidence. She could see easily in the darkened interior. Several candles lit in a small alcove to her left were dim pinpoints of flickering lights. She spotted the priest lying on the floor near the altar. In his brown robes he looked like a dark heap of rags cast aside on the marble stair leading to the altar. Destiny knelt at his side. "Father - not you," she whispered. "Who would hurt you?"

The priest remained motionless for several heartbeats. Destiny leaned close to him. She could hear his ragged breathing. He was alive, but she was afraid to touch him. He looked so fragile, she was afraid she might hurt him. And a part of her was afraid that if she touched such a holy man, she might be struck dead on the spot. The priest groaned, lifted his fingers to touch his bloody scalp. His lashes fluttered, and then he was looking at her.

"Father? Who did this?" She inched back, automatically seeking the shadows.

"Child, I'm afraid you're going to have to help me sit up. I'm quite dizzy." His Irish brogue was still thick despite many years in the States.

"Touch you, Father?" She sounded horrified. "What if I hurt you?"

He managed a smile. "I don't think you're going to do any more damage to my hard head than has already been done. Give me a hand."

Taking a deep breath, Destiny put her arm gingerly around his shoulders. When nothing happened, she took a firmer grip. Very carefully she helped him into a sitting position. He felt much thinner than he appeared in his robes, his bones protruding and fragile.

His body was trembling, and he swayed as if he might not be able to sit alone, so she kept her arm around him. She realized he was older than she had first thought.

"When I realized he was going to hit me, I thought of you and all your late visits. I knew God would send you to me." He tried a wink and winced instead. "Just to stack the odds a bit in my favor, I sent up a little prayer to ask God to get a message to you."

"Well, he sent for me a little late." She was nobody's heroine. It angered her that anyone would hurt such a generous, compassionate man. "God must have been sleeping when you sent Him the message. He just now delivered it." She had no idea why she had come to the church but somehow she had felt an urgent need to visit.

"You're here - that's all that matters."

"Can you stand up?" His extreme pallor worried her. "Maybe I'd better call an ambulance."

"No, no, don't do that. Just let me sit here for a moment and rest." The priest patted her hand gently as if reassuring her. "If you call an ambulance, we'll have to explain all this, and it would be better to get to the bottom of it ourselves."

Destiny frowned at him. "You're not making any sense, Father. You have to call the police. Whoever did this should be punished."

He slumped closer to her, leaning more of his weight against her. "No, that's why I needed you." His voice sounded weaker. "You can't go to the police. It was one of my parishioners. He isn't like this. I don't know what got into him. He didn't need the money - there was nothing much to take - but there was no reasoning with him." He closed his eyes and sagged completely against her. "I'm counting on you."

"You're really hurt, Father," Destiny pointed out. "You need medical attention."

"What is your name?"

"Destiny," she said angrily, feeling murderous toward the priest's attacker.

Nicolae. I need you to come to the church.

She hated calling him. She knew he would be grinning like an ape when he received her call. Destiny glared at the priest. "You have no idea what you're forcing me to do."

"Yes, I'm afraid I do, child. I know you do not wish to be in contact with others, but I have a feeling only you can solve this for me. I don't want the police involved. Promise me you'll handle this yourself."

"I don't believe this." Destiny threw her hands up in exasperation, then quickly caught the priest to her to keep him from striking his head on the marble step. "First the sisters and now you."

You sound impatient for me.

Male satisfaction purred in his voice.

Destiny pressed her lips together to keep from shrieking in frustration. The world had suddenly gone insane. Well, don't puff up yet. Do you have any skills in healing humans?

There was a small silence. Destiny couldn't help the small smile that flitted briefly across her face and found its way into her mind. And into his.

You want me to heal a human for you? Did you think I wanted your company?

His laughter came as always. Wrapping her up in warmth and tugging at her

heart. That is my woman, always so warm and welcoming. Is your human a male?

She caught that small hint of menace flaring in him.

Yes, as a matter of fact, he is, and important to me, so quit talking and get moving. You amaze me. You know I will help you, yet you still keep yourself from me.

She rolled her eyes and took a firmer grip on the priest.

I'm saving your life, buddy. I really want to do something violent to you. You're in my territory.

A sudden suspicion hit.

You're some distance away, aren't you? You were hunting the vampire.

Fury accompanied comprehension.

That's my vampire! He's in my neighborhood. I don't need some second-rate hunter in here mucking things up.

"Destiny'?" The priest drew her attention with his thin voice. "Perhaps you could loosen your grip. You're crushing my bones."

At once she complied, a blush stealing up her neck. "I'm so sorry, Father. I told you I might hurt you if I touched you. I'm not good at this sort of thing, but I think you should be lying down."

If you laugh, Nicolae, I will murder you right here in this church.

His laughter came anyway, a low whisper of a caress; obviously, he was not in the least intimidated by her threat. It was a stolen moment of camaraderie and both recognized it as such.

"If you don't mind, I'd rather not move," Father Mulligan said. "My head is throbbing and I'm afraid I might be sick."

Nicolae! I think he has a concussion!

There was fear in her voice.

At once Nicolae was soothing, all laughter gone. Destiny could face a vampire without flinching, but this situation was beyond her experience.

I am on my way and I will teach you what needs to be done. Keep him quiet.

Nicolae couldn't help the small dart of pleasure shooting through him that she had reached for him in her need. Counted on him. Accepted that he would be there for her.

"You need to stay quiet," Destiny said, hoping she sounded knowledgeable and confident. She stroked the priest's thinning hair and tried to ignore the way the scent of blood heightened her terrible hunger.

"Do you know Martin Wright? A nice young man. Marty. I've known him since he was a child. He was always a sensitive child and so loving and kind to others."

Destiny knew the man. He was Tim Salvadore's lover. Wright was always the quieter of the two. Destiny had observed him many times helping the older women in the neighborhood with heavy bags; he was the one who often slipped money to the young couple living in the small house next to Velda and Inez. "Yes, I know Martin," she admitted.

"It was Marty." There was deep sorrow in the priest's voice. "I told him if he needed the money, I would give it to him, a personal loan, but nothing I said got through to him. It made no sense at all. The only thing that mattered to him was getting the box where I keep the money for the poor. There was hardly anything in it."

"That's completely out of character," Destiny mused aloud. "And it doesn't make sense. Tim and Martin have plenty of money. They live carefully and they aren't spenders or gamblers. They don't use drugs, and Martin doesn't even drink. It's difficult to believe he would do such a thing."

She knew that Martin Wright and Father Mulligan were fast friends. They played chess every Saturday, and Martin often worked with the priest in his garden. Whenever Father Mulligan sent out a call for volunteers, it was always Martin who headed the project. "It's completely out of character," she repeated, frowning. This situation was too close to the story Velda had told her of Helena and John Paul.

"He has been coming late at night, working on plans for a gated community for the elderly. He's thought of everything seniors need - medical aid, access to a handyman, grocery shopping on limited means. But when he came tonight... well, it was Martin, but not Martin," Father Mulligan offered. "You see why I can't go to the police." He patted her hand with shaky fingers. "You find out what happened to him. I know you're the one to do it."

"I'll look into it," she said before she could stop the words. Another promise. Another thread tying her to this place. To these people.

"Thank you, Destiny. I knew this work was meant for you. After working so many years as a priest, I sense things about people." He patted her arm again. "I know you're very troubled."

She drew back, her mouth suddenly dry. "Isn't everyone?"

He smiled, his eyes closed, his head resting on her shoulder. "Tell me."

She took a deep breath, let it out and plunged in. "I looked into someone's heart and thought him a monster because he killed without emotion. I could feel darkness in him, yet he felt nothing when he killed. He did so out of duty to protect others from a monstrous being. He says I am not the monster I think myself, that I kill to protect others as well, but there is hatred in me. I hate, and want to kill. I don't think he does. He kills because he considers it his duty." Destiny waited until the priest opened his eyes and focused on her. "I kill because I have to kill."

Father Mulligan searched her face for a long time in silence. "Whom do you kill, Destiny?" He asked it softly, without fear.

Her gaze shifted away from his for a long moment. He caught the shine of tears in her eyes. "There are things in this world you can't possibly know about, Father. Monstrous beings. Not human. One took me away from my family when I was a child." She tasted death in her mouth, the bitter, vile essence of evil. There was no hope of explaining to the priest, no way of making him understand. There were moments she herself thought she was insane, living in a world of illusion.

Father Mulligan tightened his grip on her hand. Knowledge crept into the depths of his eyes. Wonder spread across his face. "You're one of them. I've heard rumors about you, but I doubted you existed. You're a hunter, aren't you, from the Carpathian Mountains?"

At once she felt the stillness in Nicolae, his wariness, his watchfulness. He was a dark shadow of menace the priest didn't know existed. Destiny immediately tried to sever her link with the ancient hunter. Unexpectedly, it proved to be impossible. She could feel Nicolae merging with her, waiting for her answer.

"Where did you hear of such a thing?" she asked carefully, all too conscious they might have to remove the priest's memories.

It isn't right, Nicolae. He's a holy man. We must not touch him.

"I should never have said anything, but I was so surprised. Some years ago it was my privilege to be assigned to a certain cardinal. He was a great man, much loved by the church, his peers and his people. He was quite ill and subsequently died. In packing up his books and precious papers, his journals and letters, I found an old letter written by a priest in Romania. That priest also is dead, but in the letter he had written of a friend of his, a man by the name of Mikhail who lived in the Carpathian Mountains. That man was extraordinary, of a different species altogether. There seemed to have been a bit of a theological discussion back and forth between the cardinal and the priest on the placing of this species in the grand scheme of things. The cardinal was sworn to secrecy and methodically burned the letters from the priest. I know that because it was well known that he frequently burned correspondence from Romania. It was a matter of speculation why he would burn the letters from that particular priest. I came along some time after the letter burning and never witnessed it, but I did find the one remaining letter."

"Does it still exist?" Destiny looked directly into his eyes.

Don 't you dare hurt him. Your trust is heartwarming.

There was that same mild amusement, no exasperation or frustration, just a patient waiting. Destiny tried not to let his voice invade her mind, wrap itself around her heart.

Father Mulligan attempted to shake his head, then groaned. "I burned the letter, although I wanted to keep it, just as the cardinal had. The contents were interesting and historically important, but I realized the priest had been reluctant to reveal his knowledge even as he was attempting to solve a theological question."

"Don't talk any more, Father, you're really hurt. We'll sort this out later. "

He's slurring his words.

Destiny was already lifting him up, cradling him in her arms as if the priest's weight were no more than a child's.

Meet me at the rectory, and hurry up!

she demanded as she ran, using preternatural speed, to the priest's home.

I am right behind you. Nicolae's voice was strong and reassuring, completely confident, and she felt some of the tension leave her.

Destiny carefully placed Father Mulligan on his bed, ignoring the presence of the other priests out in the hallway. She had blurred her entry so that none of them had seen her. Nor had they seen Nicolae as he carefully closed the door and mentally directed the occupants of the small house away from Father Mulligan's room. Nicolae pretended not to notice that she let her breath out in a sigh of relief.

"Father Mulligan, you have taken quite a crack on the head." Nicolae's voice was gentle, but Destiny recognized the hidden compulsion in it. "Open your eyes for a moment and look at me." It was a command, and in spite of his grave injury, the priest struggled to obey.

Nicolae smiled in reassurance, but Destiny hovered protectively just to show him she was watching his every move. Nicolae's infuriating smile became a smirk. Destiny couldn't look at his confident face. She melted inside. It was that simple, and that disgusting. A holy man was lying bloody and bruised from an unprovoked attack, and she was staring helplessly at Nicolae's beloved face.

Her stomach clenched. She pressed a hand to her abdomen tightly, alarmed at her thoughts.

Beloved? Handsome. Sensual. Male.

Not beloved. Where had that come from? "You're so annoying," she hissed indignantly.

Nicolae reached out, framed her face and looked at her for just a moment. It was only a brief second in time, but it was enough to rob her of reason. "You will hear the ancient healing chant in your head. Listen to the words, Destiny, and repeat them with me. Allow yourself to fall away from your body. It is difficult at first; we are always so aware of ourselves, but you can do it. Become light and energy and travel with me. Hold the mind merge firmly and use my images as a guide." The pads of his fingers trailed over her cheekbones, left a trail of fire behind. Left her shaken and confused.

Father Mulligan fumbled weakly until she reluctantly, gingerly found his hand. "I think you know the answers you are seeking, child. Have courage."

She watched him with admiration. Here was a man who gave himself willingly to be healed by a hunter of the undead. Gave his trust to a total stranger of a different species. A man who could think to comfort her when he was so injured. Destiny was humbled by his selfless, giving nature.

"Relax, Father," Nicolae said softly, his voice musical, compelling. "You should not feel pain, only warmth. I think you have a concussion, sir, but I believe I can help you if you will allow me to do so."

The priest retained his hold on Destiny's hand, but he closed his eyes once again with a small nod.

Destiny felt the shifting in Nicolae's mind first. A freeing of his spirit from his body. She knew the way; he had taught her how to do just such a thing to heal her own body when she had suffered injuries in battle. She had never healed another. Destiny went with Nicolae, following his lead as she had for so many years. Merging with him, becoming part of him.

It seemed she had always been a part of him. Her life had really begun when she had crawled into her mind and found Nicolae with his soft, beguiling voice and his unfailing patience. Destiny had closed the door on her life as a human to help preserve her sanity; only Nicolae had been allowed into her world. He knew everything about her - the good, the bad, every dream, every nightmare. Her own private hell. He knew her, yet he stayed.

Looking back, she wondered that she'd ever thought him vampire. There was darkness in him. He hunted and killed. Yet he was unfailing in giving of himself and his knowledge to her. What vampire would do that? All along she had been afraid of what he would see when he found her. Broken. Damaged.

No salvation.

She breathed the words between them.

Stay with me, Destiny.

His voice was steady.

Do not be distracted. You must concentrate on the priest, not on yourself.

Destiny hesitated for one more minute, wavering with indecision. He was drawing her deeper into his world. Into his life. Into his soul. Destiny let go of the last remnant of her being and went willingly, allowing her body to slip away, feeling the freedom of becoming energy and light. This was a healing balm that was twice as strong as anything she had ever experienced.

The fracture was there in the skull of the priest, a jagged crack, a dark violation of his being. Destiny heard the soft chanting in Nicolae's melodic voice and added her voice to his so that they blended in perfect harmony. Words of healing. Ancient words she didn't understand but that were beautiful and right. She felt the peace and rightness of it, the energy flowing between them to the priest. Destiny observed carefully as Nicolae meticulously welded the edges together so that the skull was once again seamless. He paid attention to the smallest detail, removing blood clots and reducing the swelling as if the injury had never been.

Nicolae did not stop there, even though she sensed his weariness. He streamed through his patient, examining his heart and lungs, every vital organ, until he was completely satisfied that the priest would awaken healed and strong.

They emerged at the same time, returning to their own bodies, smiling at one another like old friends. "Thank you, Nicolae. You saved his life."

It was worth every ounce of his strength to see that look on her face. Soft. Accepting. Happy. She was looking at him with stars in her eyes. He had not thought she would ever look at him that way. Nicolae was careful not to allow any show of emotion to betray him. His hold on her was fragile. He didn't make the mistake of gathering her into his arms and drawing her close, even though that was all he wanted to do. She was pale, her hunger beating at him, yet he couldn't provide for her.

"He is a good man, Destiny. Did you have time to examine his memories to see what actually happened?"

Destiny nodded. "It was as he told me. Martin Wright came in and confronted him. Father Mulligan offered money, asked him to sit and talk, tried to reason with him, but Martin attacked him."

Nicolae sat on the floor beside the priest's bed. "That makes no sense."

"No, it doesn't. Velda and Inez told me a similar story about John Paul coming home and attacking Helena."

"I am not familiar with them. I have seen Wright in the bar, but not this other couple."

"John Paul adores Helena. He would never beat her." Destiny tapped her fingernail against the bed frame. "Something is definitely wrong." Nicolae looked pale and drained, appearing gray in the darkness as he rubbed his shadowed jaw thoughtfully.

"Do not look so worried, Destiny. We will figure it out. Are you certain Father Mulligan destroyed that letter? Mikhail Dubrinsky is the Prince of our people. We cannot afford to let anything or anyone endanger him in these tense times. Our very existence as a people is threatened."

She leaned toward him, needing to examine his features up close. Her fingertips moved over the angles and planes of his face, brushing at the lines near the corners of his mouth. "You need to feed." She hadn't meant it as an invitation, but it came out that way. Soft. Seductive. Unexpected. And it startled both of them.

Nicolae's body responded to the temptation of her voice, of her invitation; a relentless, savage ache hit him hard. Heat swept through him. Lightning streaked through his veins with white-hot intensity. His eyes met hers. He was lost immediately, drowning in the depths of her aquamarine eyes. She turned her head slightly, exposing her soft, vulnerable neck, an expanse of smooth, scented skin.

Nicolae reached for her, drew her close. She fit into his arms, her soft body lush and pliant. She was hot silk and satin, elevating his fever. Slowly he bent his head to her perfect skin.

No!

It was no less than a command. His brother's voice was sharp with warning. Nicolae inhaled her scent, felt her pulse jump beneath his lips. The call of her blood was potent in his mind, in his heart.

She is tainted. You are not yet bound! Stop Nicolae, you endanger both yourself and her.

Nicolae closed his eyes, wanting to shut out reason and thought.

You endanger both yourself and her.

It was true. Reluctantly he drew back, away from temptation. His incisors receded. He could not risk Destiny. Would not risk her.

Destiny sat very still with the warning echoing in her mind.

She is tainted. She is tainted.

It played like a terrible refrain in her head. Beat at her with the intensity of a horrific truth. She shoved Nicolae away from her as she leapt to her feet.

"Destiny." Her name was wrenched from his heart. "Stay with me."

The aching loneliness in his voice was haunting, soul destroying. For the first time she could see how much he needed her. It wasn't just wanting; he needed.

Everything feminine, everything human in her struggled to be what he needed.

She is tainted.

The ugly refrain reverberated loudly in her mind.

She shook her head as she backed away from him. "What do you think will happen if I stay with you, Nicolae? Do you believe in miracles? I prayed for miracles night after night when I heard him coming for me, when I huddled in a little ball in the corner of a dirty cave." She curled her fingers tightly into a fist so that her nails dug into her palms. "You belong here with Father Mulligan. With these people." She gestured toward the priest with her clenched fist. "I don't, and I never will. Please thank Vikirnoff for his warning. I wouldn't have wanted to infect you."

"Destiny." The ache in his voice was raw, real, expressing a pain far beyond her own.

"No." Someone had to have sense. "Answer me. I would have infected you if you had taken my blood, isn't that right?"

Her eyes were glittering like rare gems, sparkling with tears. She dashed the moisture away with an impatient sweep of her arm. Nicolae thought her the most extraordinary woman he had ever seen. The most courageous. He refused to be anything less. His gaze met hers squarely, and he nodded. "Yes, Destiny. And as I have no anchor to hold me to the light, it would be very dangerous."

She lifted her chin proudly. "That's me. Your anchor. What happens to you if I can't be what you need?"

"Destiny, this is not necessary. You are everything I need. Everything I want."

"Answer me, Nicolae. What happens to you?" Her voice was very soft but very steady. Her gaze never wavered.

A flicker of pain crossed his face before his expression settled once more into a stoic mask. "I am a Carpathian male, an ancient hunter very close to my time. If I am not bound to my lifemate, I must either seek the dawn or turn vampire. My choice is clear."

She pressed her fingertips to her eyes briefly in reaction. "Is there no other lifemate for you? There must be another."

Nicolae shook his head. "There is only one. You are the other half of my soul."

Destiny swung away from him, dissolving into a fine mist, streaming under the door and down the hallway into the night air. She rose fast, climbing high until she was well over the city, screaming in her mind so the shock waves wouldn't distress the people below her.

Did you know all along that I was your lifemate?

It was an accusation, nothing less.

No! If I had known, I would have told you. Come back to me, Destiny. You must feed soon. You need me.

He was right. Her strength was waning quickly. She hadn't fed in several risings, and lending her strength to Nicolae as he healed the priest had drained her of what little she had left. She landed, regaining her natural form. She knew exactly where to go to find what she needed. And it wasn't Nicolae.

Destiny was furious. Her entire life had been disrupted again. The world seemed to be spinning out of control. As she stalked down the narrow street, her fingers curled into fists and her lips pressed together tightly. She was looking for a fight. Any fight. A good old-fashioned fight would do. Where were all the criminals in the city? Had they all gone to bed early? Where was a vampire when you needed one?

Destiny sought out every back alley she could think of, stalking the streets trying desperately to look like a victim. A poor, lonesome girl caught out all alone in the dark. Her eyes glittered dangerously as she glared into the night, looking for anyone to attack her.

She huffed out her breath in a rush of indignation. She was strolling down a dirty street where it was known a person could be stabbed for a pair of shoes, yet not a single person tried anything. The buildings loomed up on either side of her, great ugly examples of crumbling neglect. Graffiti was thick on the walls, along with other things she preferred not to identify. Stairwells and alcoves abounded, perfect hiding places for someone with larceny on his mind. Destiny was certain she was the perfect target. A woman alone, defenseless. There were no streetlights to illuminate any crime. It was the perfect opportunity for mayhem, and no one was taking her up on the invitation. She was totally disgusted with the criminals in the city.

It seemed an eternity before she spotted three men leaning against a wall, watching her progress and murmuring softly to one another. She could hear them clearly discussing ideas on how to pass the rest of the night with her. Their conversation brightened her spirits considerably. At last, a chance to take out her frustration and aggression. Deliberately she slowed her pace, giving them plenty of time to make up their minds. She had stayed away from the neighborhood for three risings and she had not fed. Hunger was a living, breathing entity crawling through her body with a relentless demand. The pull of the neighborhood was incredibly strong. Mary Ann's gentle voice, the church, Velda and Inez. She shied away from thinking the word home. She had no home. She was a nomad. A loner.

Why wouldn't Nicolae get out of her head?

She had no reason to worry about him or feel guilty. Nicolae probably was making the entire thing up. Except she'd never caught him in a lie. She'd spent a lifetime looking for his lies to prove to herself he was a vampire. She glanced briefly at the men, then down at the ground, continuing her steady pace. She needed physical action.

One of the three men straightened, took two steps toward her as if to intercept her. Destiny let her breath out in a hiss of anticipation, eagerness coursing through her body like adrenaline as she turned toward him, waiting. Waiting. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath with her. Two rats scurrying near trash cans sat up on their hind legs, motionless, waiting expectantly.

She felt him then. Nicolae. Real, not imagined. Close. There was no beautiful voice, no soft words to turn her from her intended path. But when she swung her head, her gaze meeting her would-be attacker, he stopped dead in his tracks.

Destiny knew immediately that the hungry flame burning deep in her belly betrayed her, glowing red hot in the depths of her eyes. "What kind of idiot are you?" she taunted him, then glared at the others, daring them to attack her.

She heard Nicolae's soft laughter then.

You should have lured them with sex.

Something in his voice made her shiver, an underlying menace that told her it wouldn't have been a good idea.

Call me to you.

Her breath escaped between her teeth, a hiss of anger. Before anything else, she should have asked Mary Ann if all men were such pains in the butt. She was not going to call him to her. She would not be enticed. Lured. Tempted. She would have left Seattle for good to escape him, but she had unfinished business. She had promised Inez and Velda she would check into the problems in the neighborhood. "Cowards," she sniffed with contempt and turned her back on the three men, who were staring in outright alarm at her.

Had there been a small surge of power in the air? Had Nicolae interfered in some way, enhancing the fire burning in her, allowing the three men to see the danger they were in? Destiny whirled around, her vivid gaze seeking out every nook and cranny. The rats. They had hunkered down closer to the trash cans, staying small in an attempt to keep from being noticed. She glared at them until they hid in the midst of the trash.

Are you following me? Don't you dare try to follow me!

Nicolae wouldn't dare. Destiny paused at the entrance to the narrow street, tapping her fingernail against the wall. Of course he would dare. He was a hunter.

Her anger was fading. All she could think about was the aching need in his voice, the stark hunger in his eyes. Despair was a sharp knife piercing her heart each time she remembered the flicker of pain crossing Nicolae's face. She leaned her weight against the wall and looked up at the stars. The wind was blowing stronger now, shifting a blanket of gray fog so that it spread across the night, blotting out stars and muffling sound. A fine drizzle began to rain down on her. She glanced at the rats scurrying for cover. Something in the way one of them moved caught her attention - the way it kept her in sight, the round, beady eyes shining with far too much intelligence. At once a chill went down her spine. She went still inside, her senses flaring out to discover the others. And there were others. This time she had been truly drawn into an ambush.