I like shoes.

Pretty shoes.

The taller, the better.

At only about five-foot three, they make me feel statuesque.

My only gripe, they’re hard to run in.

And right now, I’m running pretty damn hard.

“Excuse me. Pardon me. Pardon me.” Shit. “For the love of God, move out of the way!”

I’m in Reno, the Nevada side of Tahoe. We don’t come here much. Sure it’s close to home and has a lively nightlife, and yes, there are beautiful forests and stunning attractions nearby. But too many times my love and his furry friends have found partially eaten body parts in those woods and more than a few of the attractions have been splattered with blood and innards as a result of supernaturals gone wild.

Humans chalk them up to gruesome homicides committed by psychopathic serial killers.

I wish I was that naïve, strolling through life believing monsters don’t actually exist.

Instead I’m running down the sidewalk past one of too many casinos and snaking around far too many bodies.

The flashing lights strobe against the vampire I’m chasing, setting his white dress shirt aglow and bleaching his skin. It’s not a good look for him, and despite my cute giraffe print open shoulder flouncy dress, it’s probably a bad look for me, too. I don’t do sweat well, and right now, I’m bathing in it, my back is drenched and the fabric of my dress clings to my skin.

My stilettos pound against the sidewalk as I jet after him. His stride is easy, using a tenth of the muscle I am. If he wanted to, he would run, and I wouldn’t be able to catch him. His pace is fast enough that I can’t shoot a bolt of lightning into his back or set him ablaze without striking some poor unsuspecting tourist. But it’s slow enough to make sure I follow. If I had any doubt, the glance he tosses me over his shoulder squashes that doubt to bits.

Yeah, this leech wants to lead me into a trap, and maybe take a bite. But Gemini is the only one I let bite me, and his nibbles tend to be south of my neck.

My phone rings. I answer it only because I see that it’s Shayna.

“Dude. Where are you?”

“Virginia Street,” I say, struggling to speak and breathe, and freaking run.

“Still?” she asks.

“It’s a long damn street,” I stammer, winding around a crowd of people emptying out of a club.

“Do you still have eyes on your guy?”

I sigh, wondering what spy movie she swiped that term from. “Yeah, sure,” I mutter.

Until I don’t.

“Shit,” I say.

“What’s wrong? Did you lose him?” Shayna asks.

I scan the area, taking a moment to catch my breath. Shayna inherited a little bit of her mate’s essence. It’s enough that she can heal, albeit at a much slower rate, and more than enough that she wouldn’t struggle to catch up to a vamp like I am.

“Yes,” I admit. I adjust my dangly purse against my shoulder. “What about you? Are you still at the club?”

“Yup. The eagle has landed. She’s in the nest and watching the eggs.”

I assume she means she hasn’t left the club. “What about the other vamp, is he still there?”

There’s a pause. “Didn’t you hear me? The eagle is in the nest—the nest—and she’s watching the eggs.”

“Shayna, I don’t know what that means. Please speak a language I can understand.”

“You’re cranky.”

I’ll give her that. “Is the vamp there or not?”

“Uh-huh, I’m looking right at him,” she says slowly.

“Does he see you?” I ask carefully, noting how she quiets.

“Now he does . . . I think he picked up my scent.”

“What?” We were seated in the upper tier of the club, with an entire dance floor of gyrating bodies separating us. Magic gives off a certain aroma, earthy and primal for weres, stormy and dangerous for witches, and sex and candy for vampires (I know, but I don’t make the rules). My sisters and I being different, give off totally unique scents. According to Gemini, we smell like power. I’ll take it. I just don’t like those we’re trying to follow to know it, too.

“Shayna,” I say. “How can he possibly scent you?”

“I don’t know. But he did.”

“My guess is he’s about to bolt.” I glance up. “I’m next to El Dorado. Don’t go after him by yourself. Take Emme and—”

“Wait, Emme isn’t with you?” she asks.

I stop moving. “No . . .”

“Oh, no,” she says.

“Oh, shit,” I say.

A wall of men step in front of me. All with long beards; all wearing lumberjack chic attire; all full of themselves.

“Hey, baby,” one of them says, stroking his beard suggestively. “Looking for a good time?”

“Looking to chop wood?” I fire back. “Fuck off, Paul Bunyan.”

“Oh!” his friends yell.

I hurry around them as Shayna speaks fast. “T, Emme chased after you when you followed your vamp out of the club. I saw her step out and into the foyer. Didn’t you see her??”

“No.” I look behind me. “And I don’t see her now. Let me try her cell. You stay with your vamp. If we can’t find her, his friends have her, and we’re going to need them to tell us where she is.”

Where Emme is soft words and gentle motions, Shayna is all perk and lightning fast. She doesn’t sound perky now, and if the vamps do have Emme, they’re going to get acquainted with Shayna’s super reflexes and pointy weapons very soon.

Her tone reflects the seriousness of the situation. “I’m on it. He won’t lose me.”

No. He won’t. “Be careful,” I tell her.

I don’t wait for her goodbye, immediately calling Emme as I move further down the street. Cars honk their protest when the convertible in front of them doesn’t move, earning an irate middle finger from the driver, despite the half-dressed blonde, laughing and cuddling against him.

I continue forward, snaking around a group of senior citizens chatting away. Emme’s phone rings against my ear, each dragged out tone making me more anxious. My right arm shudders, firing a warning. I turn in a circle, scanning the perimeter. But all I see and feel are humans.

“Call me,” I say, when the voicemail picks up.

I adjust my elbow length cream-colored gloves, wondering if Sparky picked up on something I didn’t. I lift the phone again and send Emme a message using the voice to text feature.

Where are you?

Again, my arm shudders. Again, I’m thinking it’s not a good sign. “Okay, girl,” I say. “What are you trying to tell me?”

I pass the casino and a mime juggling on the street. I also edge around a drag queen whose on-point makeup more than rivals mine. I’m not certain where I’m headed, all I know is that for now, forward is my only option.

Shayna can’t track like a were, but whatever bit of Koda she has in her, is enough to recognize some scents. She can scent my aroma enough to find me if necessary, but only if I don’t stray too far from the El Dorado.

The thing is, I may have to stray far.

I ease my way forward, my instincts and my arm, warning me something isn’t right.

My thumb slides along the back of my phone as I walk further away. I steal a glance at it when it vibrates, hoping it’s Emme only to see Shayna’s text.

The vamp is on West 4th and Evans.

Which means she is, too.

Damn it. This was supposed to be a simple grab and dump. We grab the two vamps and dump their asses back at Misha’s.

Ordinarily, I wouldn’t have taken this assignment, not so soon after Egypt, and not when Gemini is still so pissed. But I only promised him I wouldn’t leave the country, not the state.

Vamps . . . they’re not the cuddliest creatures you’ll ever meet. They go crazy and evil without a master to ground and control them. I think it’s safe to say no one wants crazy and evil vampires running around. So here I am, fending off drunks, racing past drag queens, looking for the bloodsucker I need to take down, and hoping to God he doesn’t have my sister.

I try Emme again, my blood going cold and every hair on the back of my neck standing on end when I catch the weak sound of her Angel ringtone. I look ahead, the sound growing weaker and appearing to move away from me.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

I call for backup, not that it stops me from edging toward where the sound disappears. Trap or not, the bastard who has Emme is going to tell me where she is.

Tonight’s backup is in the form of a naughty, and very slutty Catholic schoolgirl. Thankfully, Agnes Concepcíon is as smart as she is trampy.

“What?” she says when she answers.

Hey, I never claimed she was nice. “I need you here.”

“Is your prey in custody?”

“No. Both took off, one has Emme.”

“I’m coming—fuck.”

What sounds like glass breaking erupts on the other end before the line goes dead. Okay, not just dealing with two rogue vamps here. My arm involuntarily jerks. I clutch it to me, knowing she’s getting ready to react, with or without me.

Except I don’t see anything, nothing but wall to wall tourists and promoters trying to lure them into the clubs. “Not yet,” I tell her, trying to soothe her.

I wait until I’m sure she’s not going to lash out, and hit Emme’s number again. I freeze in place when the line rings and the familiar ringtone sounds louder to my left, down an alley, because why the hell not?

I scan the long narrow space separating the buildings. A small bulb fixed above a closed door is the only source of light. I make out a dumpster further down and what might be a boarded up window on the opposite building.

My right arm jerks, warning me, as if a desolate, dark alley isn’t enough of a clue that something is lurking in the shadows, waiting to eat me.

I shove my phone into the exterior pocket of my purse, careful to place it with the mic sticking out, and adjust the chain-link strap so it crosses my chest like a seatbelt.

With a curse, and few more colorful mutterings, I step into the alley.

In a creepy movie, what I’m doing would be considered suicide. It’s the scene where the young woman, crazy enough to trek into known danger alone, would meet her gruesome death. Here, it’s survival; mine, my sister’s, and anyone these vamps have targeted.

I strip out of my gloves, left first, then right, dropping them as I walk. Fashion doesn’t mean shit when your sister’s life is in danger. Besides, these vamps know we’re not the humans we pretend to be.

Sparky flares like a light beam with the next step I take. Her glow isn’t as fierce as it can be, broadening enough just to show me what’s ahead, like the rat that races in front of me, and his friend who follows. I cringe, though given what’s waiting for me, rats aren’t so bad.

My vision sharpens as my body responds to the preternatural magic. He’s close. Either I’m moving toward him, or he’s moving toward me.

I glance around, but I don’t see anything. I only feel him. “Siri,” I say. “Call Emme.”

“Calling Emme,” Siri says, her voice oddly vacant in the bleak surroundings.

The further I venture, the more the alley becomes its own separate world far away from the strip. Dingy and gritty, it shows the underbelly of the city that spellbound tourists prefer not to see, the dirty side that reeks of sin and feeds on innocents.

The cell phone ring sounds through the leather fabric. But it’s the familiar ringtone of Emme’s phone to my right that has me turning left.

That’s right, left.

I’m not stupid.

My problem is, I never could outrun evil.

The vamp I was following soars from his spot high against the building, the sharp nails he used to fix himself to the brick, raking against my throat as he slams me into the opposite wall.

“Looking for me?” he asks.

Pain shoots down my spine and I can barely breathe. My heart pounds wickedly against my ribcage as I try not to panic.

“As a matter of fact, I am,” I say, struggling to speak.

He’s not trying to kill me. Not yet. If he was, Sparky would have detonated him like a piñata. That doesn’t mean he didn’t hurt me or that he’s allowing me to move. I can barely breathe, my lungs clenching with the need to draw a full breath.

The fingers of his opposite hand skim down my cheek, the motion and greed in his dark ravenous stare churning my stomach. “My, you’re a pretty thing.”

My right arm shudders. She doesn’t like him touching us either. “Where’s my sister?” I bite out.

“The blonde?” he doesn’t wait for me to answer, gripping my throat tighter. “You don’t need to worry about her anymore.”

His voice drifts as his chin lowers to where my power builds. He jerks when he realizes what’s happening. But it’s too late. That familiar zing charges through me as my lightning releases, sending bolts of blue and white in a swirl of sparks down the length of my metal purse strap, jolting the vampire and hurling him across the alley.

Brick dust explodes in a thick cloud when his body strikes the opposite building. I snatch him up by his throat with my right arm when he falls forward, the power within it making my limb outrageously strong. “I asked you a question, where’s my sister?”  

His eyes widen, but his shock is only brief. Long nails stab against my skin. I barely feel the pointy tips. As lethal as his dagger-like fingernails are, they’re no match for the magic protecting my arm.

I lift him higher and fire another bolt to snag his attention. His legs rattle and his feet fling out like snapping sheets. “You think you’re the one in charge,” I tell him. I give him another squeeze, my fury helping me ignore the ache wringing my throat. “You’re wrong.”

His stare shifts to the side, alerting me someone else has arrived half a second before he’s wrenched from my grasp.

A stream of warm blood splashes across my chest. Gemini leans with his back against the wall, gripping the decapitated vampire’s head by his long, messy hair. I should be used to decapitated vampires. I should be used to a lot of things. Except I’m not completely desensitized, yet.

I beat down the splash of acid burning its way up my throat. “I need him alive,” I say, swallowing hard. “His friends have Emme.”

“No. We do,” he replies. Every muscle strains against his dark gray T-shirt as he pushes off the wall and tosses the head aside, marching to where the vamps body is desperately trying to crawl away.

The body can’t see where it is. It only senses danger, leaving a streak of red as it scuttles across the concrete.

Gemini kicks it over, bringing down his heel into the chest. With a sickening crunch the sternum cracks and ash explodes in a small mushroom cloud.

There’s a plus to killing a vamp, no traces that he ever was, when he goes. The downside is, whatever blood spills pre-death stains like a murder scene, which is why I won’t be wearing this dress again.

I bat at the stain. What hasn’t soaked through as blood has already turned to ash. “She’s okay?” I croak, trying to hide my injuries and very much avoiding eye contact.

“She’s fine,” he says. His superior vision hones in on my neck the moment I tilt my chin. He rushes forward, lifting my jaw gently. “You’re hurt.”

“No, just a few bruises,” I assure him.

“They could have been more,” he says, his voice gruff.

He has a valid point. If my arm didn’t possess all the mojo that it does, that vamp would have killed me and tossed aside my broken body. But I don’t want to agree, and I definitely don’t want to argue, not when his features turn feral and I sense the essence of his beast caress my skin.

“You said you were going out with the girls,” he reminds me.

“I was,” I say, keeping my voice gentle and casual, like he didn’t just break a vamp in two. “And we did.”

“No,” he responds, his expression seething with ire. “You went hunting.”

I clutch his wrists. “Baby, I know this looks bad—”

“Dude!” Shayna grinds to a halt at the other end of the alley, her sword out and a decapitated head swinging merrily in her opposite hand.

Perhaps “merrily” isn’t the best word seeing how the head is snapping its fangs and trying to bite her.

I groan. I have a way of leaping from bad to worse, straight into a pool of trouble where I can do little more than doggy paddle around the edge.

Shayna’s focus bounces from me to Gemini. “Um, hey, Gem.” He doesn’t answer. She looks down the street and away from us. “Koda’s here. Isn’t he?”

“He is,” Gemini replies. “I think I should warn you, he’s about as happy as I am.”

So, likely homicidal.

“The wolves have Emme,” I say, hoping to ease her mind and lessen our current dilemma. Nothing lifts a mood like a thwarted kidnapping. Yay, us.

She lifts her arm. “I’m guessing we don’t need him?” she asks, pointing at the head with the tip of her sword.

“No,” Gemini answers.

She sighs, her shoulders slumping. “I’ll go find the body.”

Like a little kid being sent home, she marches back in the direction she arrived, leaving me with Gemini. His hands fall away as I ease away from him. I walk to the opposite end of the alley, retrieving Emme’s phone and thanking God Almighty she’s not hurt.

“I’m sorry,” I begin. “I wasn’t trying to upset you.”

Gemini isn’t looking at me, his rigid stance is turned in the direction of an approaching vampire wearing a very tiny plaid skirt.

Agnes’s white shirt hangs in tatters, her lacy red bra poking through the strips of fabric as she struts forward. “This wasn’t our fault,” she says, ignoring me to speak to Gem.

“No?” Gemini counters. “Then why the hell are me and my pack picking up your fucking mess?”

I stiffen, hurrying to his side.

Agnes has no status in the supernatural world outside of Misha’s keep. Gemini does, although you’d never guess by the way she answers him. “We were informed of two rogues. Our master acted well within his rights—”

“Your master acted without informing the Alliance,” Gemini growls. “Placing my mate and her family in danger!”

I step between them when Gemini’s shoulders roll forward. He’s ready to attack and so is Agnes. Her nails elongate in succession with her fangs, “You don’t know who you’re dealing with.”

“No, you don’t,” he snarls.

“Gemini, stop,” I urge. “I won’t have you fighting with Misha’s family.”

“Then she needs to stand down,” he replies, his voice morphing from primal to deadly.

I’ve seen my lover angry and vicious and know his statement is no longer a warning. It’s a proclamation of death, irrespective of which hierarchy of supernatural it offends.

My hand grips his shoulder as my head whips back. “Back off,” I tell her.

She scowls, her anger turning on me.

Celia maintains a title and position within Misha’s family that affords her the right to order and lead them in his absence. I don’t have anything like that and am simply trying to avoid her re-death. Gemini is furious, and if he’s acting within Pack duty, he can legally strike her down.

“Agnes,” I say, digging my nails deeper into Gemini’s shoulder. “Stand down, now.”

I don’t think she’s listening to my pleas as much as she realizes Gemini is ready to destroy her. His eyes lock on her, the steel and ire in his gaze forcing her to obey and edge away.

Not that she’s done talking. “Your mate works for my master out of choice. She came willingly as did her sisters.”

“Not anymore. Tell your master as Second in Command to the Squaw Valley Den Pack, he is hereby summoned to meet with the Alliance and disclose any and all information surrounding the vampires you were hunting.”

She frowns. “They’re rogues,” she informs him. “More than we anticipated, yes, but nothing more.”

“You’re wrong. If your master gave a damn about anything aside from himself he would have known, we would have told him, and none of us would be here.”

Her nails dissolve within her fingertips as she watches him closely. “As Chief Advisor to the House of Aleksandr, I accept your request.”

“We expect him, not you.”

“Very well,” she says, not that she’s happy.

She turns on her heel, halting in place at the sound of Gemini’s growl. “One more thing.”

She stops, her spine stiffening when she hears him stalk forward, his voice unbearably rigid. “I swear on my honor that if you ever risk my mate’s safety again, I’ll kill you and him.”