Jax held her breath as Godfather strode toward her. His blue eyes snapped in anger, perfectly matching the expression of every other man in the room. He looked at her for several long, piercing seconds before turning to Marcus, who faced them all with cool indifference.

Jax rolled her eyes and moved deeper into the room. “OK, boys, let’s move past the pissing match and get to work, shall we?” When no one moved or spoke, Jax planted her hands on her hips in disgust. “How much time are we going to waste? Because last time I saw him, Shane didn’t look like he had much left.”

Several hisses preceded movement and murmurs of agreement. Gage shot Marcus a scathing look, as did Dante. She let it slide. They didn’t know him like she did. He’d had no part in what Lazarus had done to Shane.

Godfather nodded. “Cross, I don’t like the fact we have to go on your intel on this. I’m giving you fair warning, if this is a setup, I’ ll destroy you.”

Marcus’s jaw clenched, but he simply said, “I assure you, that is the least of my worries at this point.” Sideways, he looked at Jax, who nodded.

Marcus faced the entire group of men. “You will be going up against an enemy who has the strength of ten men. An enemy that can see, smell and hear like a wolf. He can break a neck with a flick of his finger. He can be destroyed only one of three ways.

“First, with a wooden stake driven directly into his heart. Second, via decapitation. And third, full and prolonged exposure to the sun.

“Sound easy? It’s not.

“He can evade you better than a ghost. Because of his strength and his age, even if you stake him, he can pull it out and survive. Therefore, the stakes must be barbed at the end and must run him completely through. I daresay that all of you combined could not accomplish Lazarus’s demise. You need me.”

For a moment, he paused and looked at Jax, and she sensed more in his words than the obvious. Before she could blink or flush, he turned back to the men.

Gage spoke first. “So what are you going to do? Invite us over to dinner?” Dante and Dominic laughed, but Marcus cut them off with a low growl.

“This isn’t a joke, jackass. Lazarus and those like him can change bodies. It’s how he’s walked the earth the past twenty-eight years as the colonel, ever since he killed the man. When he tires of his present body or needs a new form, he simply drains another person of his blood and takes it. I’m going to guess he has already done this. There are only two people in this room who will be able to detect him for what he is. Myself and”—he looked at Jax—“Cassidy.”

“Something he’s sure to know,” Godfather said. “So what do you propose?”

“We need to get to the two senators, keep them together, and wait for Lazarus to make his move. He will do it today, before sunrise. He will have help. Furies. They are vampire soldiers, similar to kamikazes in their purpose, as they are single-minded killers. Lazarus will do everything in his power to prevent the announcement of Bond. He wants Rowland in.”

“Going after Bond and then trying to control Rowland seems a pretty indirect way to do things. Why wouldn’t he just drain one of the senators and assume his body?” Godfather asked.

“Because he still has limitations with respect to the sun. Taking the human form of a public figure limits his mobility and maximizes his exposure. This way, he can be whoever he wants, move wherever he wants, and do whatever he wants while having complete control of the White House.” Marcus shrugged. “Lazarus also has a keen sense of . . . gamesmanship. He’ ll take pride in beating you. Us.”

Godfather scowled deeply and nodded.

Jax sensed Marcus subtly relax. “You must also keep in mind that Colonel Lazarus thinks he is the savior of this country. He’s a fanatic and one of the strongest of our kind. I won’t say what you endeavor to do is impossible, but understand this . . .” He stopped to look at each man in turn. “Some of you who stand in this room will not return.”

“We understand the risks,” Godfather said. “I have a plane waiting to fly us to D.C. We can formulate our plan of attack on the way.”

Jax changed into clean clothes and packed her sparse bag. In less than an hour, they were in the air on their way east to D.C. It had taken permission from the Secretary of Homeland Security to allow L.O.S.T. to get their plan up and running.

The plan was simple. Simple and gory.

Bond, who traveled with a double because of a threat several years ago, would be the bait. Each of the operatives would be armed with the special bullets, wooden stakes and bulletproof vests. They would be protecting Bond in the guise of the Secret Service, who were more than pissed about that. The rest of the team would be protecting their backsides.

As they flew, summer thunderstorms beat up the small jet. Several times, Jax, who was usually a fearless flyer, doubted they would hit the ground alive. Each time her heart ended up in her throat she would find Marcus staring at her from across the aisle. He would give her a reassuring smile, then lean back and close his eyes.

His confidence gave her confidence, but she was too wired to close her eyes and rest. All of them except Marcus were bouncing around in the plane like the thunder and lightning outside.

Over and over, her thoughts returned to Shane. As much as she wanted him to be alive, she knew that even if he’d survived his wounds, he’d never be the same. And someone like Shane Donovan would rather be dead than be less than he was. Just like Marcus.

Once more, she looked at him. His confession about killing Sophia Rowland had stunned her and, in fact, still did. She wondered how the senator would react when he learned of his wife’s death. How would Gracie handle it? She wouldn’t be able to seek comfort from her older brother because she didn’t even know he existed. He could die and she’d never know there had been someone who, even though he’d never met her, had cared enough about her to spare her life.

Marcus’s big body was scrunched up in a captain’s seat that would have been adequate for most men, but Marcus, like the others surrounding her, was not an average man. Her belly did a little somersault. He wasn’t an average man, but he was a good man. Honorable and, he had proven repeatedly, gentle and caring.

Jax felt eyes on her and looked to her right to find Godfather’s intent gaze upon her. How long had he been watching her? And did he know that Marcus had come to mean a great deal to her? Uneasiness rumbled deep inside her gut. She held Godfather’s gaze until he looked away.

The plane landed just after 4:00 a.m. D.C. time. The jet skidded on the wet runway. Jax crossed herself and grabbed hold of her armrests. As the engines revved down, she felt the aircraft hydroplaning and begin to spin.

Shit.

She looked over and found that Marcus’s seat was empty. The door to the cabin flapped back and forth. The plane jerked a hard right before it settled. The engines roared in defiance, but the vessel slowed. Jax let out a long, relieved breath. She didn’t know what Marcus had done, but she had no doubt he’d done something imperative to their safety. As they taxied in, Godfather strode to the cabin.

With her enhanced hearing, it was easy to eavesdrop.

“What’s wrong with the pilot?” Godfather asked.

“Aside from the fact he stinks at his job, nothing.”

Jax laughed.

She watched Marcus stride out of the cramped cabin. He met her gaze, then extended his hand to help her up.

“You got us down?” she asked, amazed. He was a pilot too?

“It was either me or they’d be hosing down the runway.”

They were met by Naomi, who pushed a rack of basic-black Secret Service–type suits. She’d also brought a trunk of earphones and an arsenal of vampire-destroying weaponry. The L.O.S.T. team quickly changed into standard Secret Service black suits, then piled into three black Suburbans. No one spoke. The plan was set. All there was to do now was execute.

The press conference was scheduled for ten o’ clock that morning at the Marriott Wardman Park. On the way to the hotel, they were pounded by the torrential sheets of rain that dogged them. In less than twenty minutes, they arrived at the hotel. As they entered the hotel from one of the back service entrances, Godfather called Jax and Marcus over. “Senator Rowland has insisted on a briefing. He’s concerned about his wife.”

Jax looked at Marcus, then back at Godfather. She’d been planning on waiting to tell him about her, but—

“Sophia Rowland is dead,” Marcus said.

“What?” Godfather asked incredulously. He didn’t lose his cool often, but he did now. He moved in close to Marcus, who didn’t back down one inch.

“Lazarus turned her. She would have become more deadly than him. I eliminated the threat.”

Godfather swiped his hand across his chin and shook his head. “This is a clusterfuck straight out of the Twilight Zone.” He quickly composed himself. “Who knows?”

“Jax and Lazarus.”

“Let’s keep it that way. For now we’ ll let the senator think she’s alive but under protective custody in Carmel.”

As they headed into the bowels of the hotel, Jax familiarized herself with it. All of them had memorized the complicated floor plan on the way out, but seeing it was completely different. She needed to know every exit, every corner. The very texture of the place.

Senator Bond and his entourage were holed up in the old Wardman Tower. It had easier exit access than the newer part of the hotel. The press conference was to be held in the grand ballroom, where both Bond and Calhoun would give a speech. But Lazarus would strike before dawn.

“I don’t like the proximity of the grand ballroom to the outside,” Jax said to Marcus. “It’s too deep, with absolutely no chance of getting the colonel out in the open sun.”

“It doesn’t matter. The storm clouds will protect him enough so he can move around outside. He’ ll get a little warm under the collar, but it will be tolerable.”

“Damn weather,” she muttered.

Marcus reached down and squeezed her hand. “We don’t need the weather’s cooperation. We’ ll get the colonel regardless.”

Jax nodded. She refused to entertain the slightest thought of defeat. Lazarus had to die. He was more dangerous than a nuke. Fifteen minutes later, everyone assembled in a staff room for a briefing.

“We’ re going to divide into two teams,” Godfather said. “Cross, you’ re in charge of Team One. Take half the men here.” Godfather looked at Jax. “You’ re with me on Team Two.”

“She’s with me,” Marcus said, his voice implacable.

Godfather didn’t move a muscle. “I said she’s with me.”

“Not tonight. I know the target,” Marcus reasoned. “If we have any chance at all, we’ ll need the combined forces of Jax and myself. Split us up and you dilute the alpha team.”

Godfather was macho, he was stubborn and he was always the one in charge, but he wasn’t stupid. Jax knew he wouldn’t sacrifice a man for his ego. He nodded. “Point taken. Be sure you keep your com on. Now,” he said, turning to encompass everyone, “Team One will go up and replace the posted Secret Service. Cassidy and Cross, I want both of you in the room with Bond and his decoy. Team Two, we’ ll take care of the perimeter and Calhoun. There’s no sense in looking for trouble; trouble is going to find us. At the appropriate time, Team One will escort the decoy senator and his wife to the ballroom. When Lazarus makes his move, we’ ll be going out the back door with the real Bond.”

“And if Team One fails to bring down the mark?” Gage asked.

“Then we take both senators and run like hell for sunlight.” Godfather looked at Marcus. “Is there anything you’d like to add?”

“Trust no one. Lazarus has the ability to kill instantly and take his victim’s form just as fast.”

“Is there any way we can tell the difference?” Godfather asked.

“No. Only coven blood can detect coven blood.” Marcus looked to Jax. “Ready?”

“I’m ready.”

“Then let’s go.”

Marcus took point and Jax took up the rear. Between them, they had four highly trained armed men, including Gage. Jax’s senses were on high alert. She didn’t take one smell or sound for granted. As they approached the service elevator, Jax sensed a change in Marcus. And immediately knew why.

Furies.

The furies swarmed them from all sides, their lethal fangs and claws slashing through the air as they screamed their hair-raising battle cry.

“Down!” Jax ordered. The L.O.S.T. team formed a Roman turtle in the corner while Jax and Marcus protected the front. Standing back to back, Jax withdrew her double mini silver scythes while Marcus bared his hands.

They hit.

She kept her stand and, as one flew around Marcus, she crisscrossed her arms in a high slashing motion, hacking the furie into pieces. Its screeches sent shivers down her spine as her blade severed its jugular. It fell silent when its head hit the floor.

Another descended from the ceiling. She lunged upward to do it in but was pulled back by the quick strength of Marcus’s hand. She returned to safety beside him.

“No separation, Jax,” he said softly. Even so, she heard his voice above the din of the battle. As the creature dropped toward them, she thrust her swords into its belly, yanked them free, and made hash out of it.

Another one crawled along the ceiling. She waited a heartbeat for it to drop, then reached high and cut it in half. She cursed when she saw two of them heading for her team. They battled back, shooting the vamps with their silver-tipped wooden bullets. They fell dead to the floor.

The three remaining furies bunched together and exited as quickly as they had materialized.

“We good?” Marcus asked, turning around to face Jax and her men. She watched as the body parts began to smoke, then catch fire and burn out.

“Jesus,” Gage said.

“Jesus has nothing to do with them,” Jax said. She hit the elevator button and the doors opened. Marcus allowed the L.O.S.T. operatives to enter first, followed by Jax. She turned to make room for Marcus just as the doors abruptly slammed shut. “Damn—”

“Jax!” Marcus yelled through the closed doors even as the elevator car rose unusually fast.

“What happened to Cross?” Gage asked as the car raced upward.

“Lazarus. He has control of the car.” And Marcus was alone. And vulnerable.

The car abruptly stopped. Jax looked up to the escape hatch. She jumped and punched it open, then climbed onto the top of the car. They were between floors. She moved to the edge of the car, reached up to the doors and pulled. They didn’t budge.

“Gage,” she called. “Get up here.”

He scrambled up. “Get the other side and pull.” The door cracked open. She wedged her scythe in and pushed with her foot. Slowly, it opened enough for her to shimmy through.

As she stood, she froze. She didn’t know if she should laugh with happiness or cry in despair.

Shane stood smiling in front of her.

She shook her head and he stepped closer.

“It’s me, Jax.”

“How?” No way could he be standing in front of her after the wounds he’d suffered. It would have taken months to recover.

“Aelia,” he grinned. “She saved me.”

He looked like Shane, sounded like Shane. Had Aelia saved him? Why? How? When?

He took her hand. “It’s OK. I guess Lazarus called for her. She saw what he did and I don’t know why, but she got really pissed off and she bit me. I’m like Marcus now, Jax. I’m here to help.”

“A vampire?” His hand was cool, clammy. She pulled hers away, not sure. . . .

He smiled, his deep aqua-colored eyes shining bright. “Yes. It hurt like hell, but I’m healed.”

“Jesus Christ,” Gage said from behind her as he shimmied through the opening.

Shane’s smile waned just a fraction, and Jax caught it.

Shit, she thought, remembering Marcus’s words. Trust no one.

“We thought you bought the farm,” Gage said, moving closer.

“I’m doing just fine, mate, as you can see.”

Marcus materialized from behind Gage. “Stand back,” he said to Shane.

Shane did what he was told, even raising his hands in compliance. “I’m not here to hurt anyone. I’m here to help.”

Marcus strode slowly toward them. He caught Jax’s gaze and inclined his head for her to move away.

She took Gage’s hand and drew him with her to the other side of the hall. A new scent began to assail her nose. Faint yet detectable.

“What is the name of the man who heads up your organization?” Marcus asked Shane.

When Shane hesitated one heartbeat too long, Marcus dove at him.

Lazarus! He’d taken Shane’s form. And that could only mean one thing.

Shane was dead.

As Marcus and Lazarus tumbled down the hall, Jax charged after them. Lazarus leapt up to the ceiling, reached down and plucked Jax from the floor. He kicked Marcus hard in the chest, sending him tumbling backward. Jax pulled her scythe. Lazarus laughed and swatted it out of her hand.

“You are nothing compared to me,” Lazarus growled, then hurled out the window with her clutched to his chest.