For some reason, throwing myself at Clayton, even though I’d had a damn good reason, embarrassed me more than my encounter with Angus.

Angus was…Angus. Women threw themselves at him all the time. He was used to it. He’d understand. He’d wait for it to invariably happen again and would likely wonder only why it’d taken me so long so notice his hotness.

I rolled my eyes even as I sat in the truck pretending not to watch him through the side mirror as he got dressed. Shifters always carried extra clothes with them.

His muscles bunched as he pulled a black t-shirt over his head, and when he’d smoothed it over his flat stomach, he paused to look my way. Smiling.

God.

He’d be even more insufferable than usual now.

I shivered and turned the heater fan down a notch. The sky was a lighter shade of black, and I dreaded going home to bed. No matter how exhausted I was, I would replay over and over and over every single moment that had occurred that night.

“Shane,” I murmured, regretfully.

The vehicle dipped when Angus climbed in under the wheel. “We’ll get it sorted out. Shane is well aware of the risks that come with hunting vampires.”

I shook my head. “I doubt he was aware of the risks of hunting vampires with me. And those two dead humans…”

“I’ll take care of it.” He reached over to squeeze my knee, and I jerked as the warmth traveled up my thigh. Perhaps he meant the squeeze to be comforting. It wasn’t. “Everything will be okay, Trinity.”

Finally, he put his hand on the steering wheel, where it belonged, and drove us away from Raeven’s Road.

I watched Shane’s truck grow smaller and smaller in the mirror, until finally, it disappeared. “What about his truck?”

“I’ll send someone for it,” he growled.

“Do you think Amias will heal him?” I asked, after we’d driven in silence for a few miles. “Or do you think he’ll turn him?” Either way, Shane would live. And either way, he would hate me.

“I don’t know,” Angus said.

“Shane will come after me.”

“No, he won’t.”

I turned my head to look at him. “He’s going to want to kill me.”

He didn’t take his stare off the road, but he smiled. It wasn’t a nice smile. “Trin, no matter how pissed he might be, he would never kill another hunter. Especially not a bloodhunter. Also, if he goes at you with the intent of doing you harm, I will stomp him into the ground.”

And it was only when I felt a certain amount of relief at his words that I realized how scared I was of Shane Copas.

Pathetic, but true.

“It’s said,” Angus went on, his voice rough and deep and steady, “that hunters are connected somehow. The way vampires are connected. Vampires can’t kill each other. They can’t kill themselves, either. Don’t worry about Copas.”

I said nothing.

“Even if you don’t trust me to take care of the situation,” he continued, “trust the fact that hunters have a connection. He won’t hurt you.”

“If he tries,” I said, after a while “I’ll have to defend myself.”

I could feel his curious stare. “Of course you will. Why wouldn’t you?”

“I gave him to Amias.”

“Ah,” he said. “So you think you’ve hurt him enough.”

“I guess.” I lay my head back against the seat and closed my eyes, and despite the filth on my clothes and body and the worry on my mind, I fell asleep in the warm, dark, secure cave of Angus Stark’s truck cab.

I woke up, startled and struggling, when Angus pulled me out of the truck and into his arms. “Settle down,” he said, striding with me toward the front door.

Angus was a domineering brute, but after a moment of bleary-eyed acknowledgment of that fact, I snuggled against his warm chest and let him pack me into the silent, sleeping house.

He set me on my bed, then strode into the little en suite washroom. I yawned, nearly cracking my jaw, and heard the shower start. He came back out and stood with his hands on his hips, staring at me.

“Water’s getting hot,” he said, finally. “Go clean up so you can get some sleep.”

I nodded. “Angus…thank you.”

He gave me a nod, then turned and stomped from the bedroom, angrier than when he’d gone in. I didn’t have the energy to try to figure him out, so I shrugged, grabbed some clean clothes, and headed for the bathroom. It was going to take me a good long while to scrub that hard night off my body.

And I took my time, because I wasn’t looking forward to lying alone in that bed.

When I finally climbed under the covers, clean and so very, very tired, I was sure I’d drift right to sleep.

But after forty-five minutes of exhausted wakefulness, I dragged a pile of covers and my pillows to the closet and pulled the door shut after me.

Everyone—and everything—was shut out, and I was safe.

I slept.

Strangely enough, I dreamed not of Angus and the potential scorching hot sex, nor of Copas and my perceived betrayal, nor even of my own brokenness and the fact that I’d done something too awful to contemplate in protecting Amias.

I dreamed of Rhys Graver and the foam-carrying incubus, who, in my dreams, were one and the same.

When I awakened, I opened my eyes to find the closet door open and Angus crouched in the doorway, watching me. “Trin,” he said, when I opened my eyes. His voice was calm, but his eyes were mournful.

I sat up, angry because I could feel the heat of embarrassment climbing my cheeks. I glared at him. “What?”

He stood. “Shane’s back, honey.”

“Okay,” I muttered. “He’s alive. He’s alive.” I shoved the covers aside and jumped to my feet, and he stood aside as I strode past him. “What time is it?”

“A little after noon.”

I rubbed my arms, then turned to look at him, almost afraid to ask the question but needing to hear the answer more than anything. “Is he…?”

He shrugged, then grinned. “He’s raging, but he’s no vampire.”

I was afraid to believe him. “How do you know?”

“For one reason, he walked into this house under his own steam. If Amias had turned him, he’d be out of commission for at least a couple of weeks while his master…” He shrugged. “It takes a while for a vampire to transition. And he came in a couple of hours ago, Trin. In the daylight.”

“Oh, my God.” I reached out to clutch his big arm. “That’s great. That’s unbelievable.” His muscles rippled under my fingers and I realized suddenly that I was touching him. I dropped my hand and crossed my arms.

“He was being a pissy little bitch, of course.” Angus gave a tiny shiver and stuck his hands into his pockets. “But he and I had a nice long talk. He’s calmed down.”

I frowned. “I saw his attack. He lost so much blood. How is he okay?”

“The vampire got to him fast, I guess. Copas is weak, but he’s stubborn. He’ll be fine.”

“Amias fed him, didn’t he? He had to. Shane lost so much blood.”

“Most likely, but that’s a secret he’ll carry to his grave. I wouldn’t go asking him about it, if I were you.”

I snorted and dashed away the tears of relief standing in my eyes. “I’m not stupid.”

“Another thing,” he said.

I sighed. “Of course there is.”

“Clayton is downstairs. The man with the Foam of Aphrodite is indeed an incubus. What do you know about these demons?”

I shook my head. “Not a lot. Offspring of a demon and a human, sucks out a person’s life force to live.” I shrugged. “Not much else.”

“Get dressed. Come down for breakfast. Clayton will explain everything he learned and some of what he suspects.” He eyed me. “Your heart is too soft, Trin.”

I paused on my way to the dresser. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You can’t change what Clayton Wilder is.”

I pulled open a drawer and rifled through it to keep from looking at him. “And what is he?”

“He’s the necromancer’s property. And he will be until she lets him go back to his grave.”

“What if she never does?” I murmured, surprised at the little flare of grief that sparked inside me when I thought of Clayton dying.

“Then he will belong to her forever.”

I grabbed some underwear from the drawer, then slammed it shut, barely noticing when Angus’s stare lingered on my silky panties. “That’s not right. There has to be a way to help him get his freedom.”

“Trinity, he killed her daddy.” He finally looked away from my undies when I wadded them up inside my fist. “Tortured the man. Miriam watched the whole thing.”

The blood drained from my face so suddenly I swayed. “What?”

He nodded, solemnly. “She was little more than a kid. Neither man was aware of her. She hid in the kill room, terrified out of her mind, and watched as Clayton tortured and murdered the man she loved most in the world. That broke her mind, Trin.”

“My God,” I whispered.

I only realized I was crying when Angus slid his thumb through the wetness on my cheek. “He’s hers, sweetheart,” he murmured. “And she deserves to keep him.”

I nodded, then turned abruptly and slipped into the bathroom. The horror of the world was sometimes too overwhelming. Too dark.

I let the hot water rush over my back and did with Miriam’s story what I did with my own. I beat it, subdued it, and hid it away in as deep a corner of my mind as I could find.

There wasn’t really any other way I could live with it.

By the time I joined Clayton downstairs, I was calm and even slightly cheerful. But I couldn’t look at him the same way I had.

I knew I never would.