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  He grinned. “You’ve got a real sweet side, too. Stay inside, and holler if you guys find anything.”

  She’d forgotten bossy and arrogant. Oh, well. For now, she had a job to do. Turning back, she bit down a yelp as he smacked her on the ass. Oh, he’d pay for that later. She chuckled. Yeah. Fun and crazy. He was those things, too.

  * * * *

  Jared finished cleaning his gun, his gaze on the gathering storm outside. While the weather had finally broken and provided sun on sparkling snow for a few hours, the next round of snow and wind was rapidly arriving with the night.

  An itch set up between his shoulder blades.

  Veronica and her pals were still working away in the living room, while Chalton was hacking files left and right with his computer—mainly investigating the two other people in the living room. Detective Lance Peters and Dr. Mabel Louis didn’t get a pass, just because Veronica and Olivia liked them. Jared had scouted the area outside and now was left with nothing to do.

  Oh, he could go through the papers with the rest of them, but somebody had to take watch, and he was the most experienced.

  He shrugged off unease. Having a mate in danger no doubt added tension to a guy’s psyche, and as soon as he took care of the threat, he’d feel much better. As would she. While she kept up a brave front, he could tell it cost her. The fact that somebody had actually wanted her dead.

  It was a sobering thought.

  He polished the barrel of his gun, wondering if he should get one of the green laser guns out of the safe in the basement. Those would deal with immortals as well as humans.

  The lights went out.

  He stiffened and stood, listening. Wind blew through the world outside, scattering sleet and ice.

  A couple of flashlights ignited from the living room, and the sound of a lighter echoed. Candlelight followed the flashlights.

  “Think it’s the storm?” Chalton asked, reaching the doorway.

  Tension clawed through Jared. “No. Everybody get down.” He’d barely bellowed the order when red laser beams pierced through the windows. “Veronica,” he yelled, jumping for the living room.

  He landed on his knees and skidded inside. Volleys of bullets pinged through the windows, shattering glass in every direction. Olivia screamed, and Chalton tackled her to the floor. Bullets hit the sofas and chairs, spewing cotton filling everywhere.

  Jared reached Veronica just as Mabel pulled Lance away from the window. The cop yanked his gun from his waistband and crab walked toward the far window.

  “Shit,” Chalton snapped. “Holy fuck. Benny is going to kill us. This was my last chance, Jared. After the apartment in the city—”

  Jared’s chest heated. “One threat at a time,” he snarled. Yeah, Benny would kill them for allowing his house to be trashed—especially after the whole penthouse debacle. Probably with a great deal of pain and some fire. Ben loved fire. For now, they had to take care of the attackers outside. “How many do you think?” He crouched on the floor, Veronica at his side.

  “At least three,” Detective Lance said, inching closer to the wall. “They must’ve followed us here. I haven’t asked. Do you guys know what you’re doing?”

  Considering they had four centuries of battle and fighting on the detective, probably fucking yes. “We do,” Jared said calmly. His temper rioted, and his need for vengeance tasted like blood. The cowards shooting from the tree line were aiming at his woman. “We, however, don’t arrest the enemy.” They killed.

  The detective looked at him, his gaze sober. “No problem.”

  They were on the same page then.

  Mabel drew a nine mil from her jacket. “They have to know we’re armed.”

  True. Jared frowned.

  Canisters crashed through the windows, and gas started to spew.

  “Gas,” the detective yelled. “Get out of the room.”

  Veronica started coughing, her eyes panicked. Jared grabbed the back of her neck and dragged her toward the kitchen.

  She was right. It was always her neck.

  Chapter 13

  Ronni’s eyes stung, and her lungs felt like she’d swallowed smoldering cigarette ashes. “What is that?” she gasped, stumbling for the kitchen.

  “Tear gas,” Jared said, one arm around her torso as he helped her along, his gun out and ready. “It doesn’t bother us as much as you, and I can still see. We need to get you to the basement.”

  “What if they have explosives?” Chalton hissed from right behind her.

  More bullets sprayed through the windows, and Jared pulled her toward the ground.

  She ducked, closing her eyes, coughing out in agony. Static buzzed between her ears. She couldn’t breathe. Panic swept ice along her skin, and she trembled. Her gun was upstairs.

  Lance yelled in pain, crashing into the table. Blood spurted from his left arm. “Damn bastard,” he hissed, his dark skin going pale.

  Jared set Ronni against the fridge. “Stay here.” He crept low to reach Lance, grabbing the detective’s shirt, protecting his head from flying debris. “Need to apply pressure.” Glancing around, he took a dishtowel off the counter to tie around the wound.

  Lance groaned and lifted his gun to the kitchen door. “They’ll be coming in.”

  More gunfire echoed, and glass flew all around them.

  Two more canisters barreled in to bounce along the hard tile.

  “Flash grenades.” Jared pivoted and covered Ronni with his body.

  Something exploded. Her skull rocked against his chest, and her vision blurred. Her central nervous system hitched. She blinked, trying to concentrate, a buzzing filling her head. “Wh-what?” she breathed.

  He leaned back, his face blurry. “Flash grenade,” he yelled.

  She couldn’t concentrate. Her chest hurt. “Jared.” Tears filled her eyes.

  “It’s okay,” he whispered in her ear, hunching over her and scooting her toward a door near the utility room. “Panic room downstairs. Lock yourself in.” He motioned for Chalton over his shoulder.

  He pulled open the door, and wooden steps came into view. Before Ronni could descend, a crash came from the front of the house.

  Then the back door careened open, bouncing off the hall and hanging drunkenly.

  Jared shoved his gun into her hand. “Shoot if necessary. Go. Now.”

  Ronni reached for Olivia, who had blood sliding from her nose. “Olly?”

  Olivia grasped the railing, her face pale, her eyes unfocused.

  “It’s okay.” Ronni gently sent her walking down, her movements hitched. She looked up just as Mabel slid her way on her knees.

  Mabel coughed uncontrollably, moving into the stairwell. “My gun is under the table. I dropped it after the flash grenade.” Her left eye was rapidly swelling, and blood poured from a cut above it.

  Ronni ripped off a piece of her shirt. “Press that.”

  Mabel nodded and moved to help Olivia down the stairs.

  “Panic room at the bottom,” Ronni said, the gun heavy in her hand. Her vision cleared, and her body centered. She wasn’t a cop, but she’d trained with many of them. Ducking down, she twisted her body to see beyond the door.

  Lance reared up by the sink and fired rapidly through the glass.

  Jared plowed into a man wearing all black, both of them careening into the utility room and out of sight.

  “Jared!” Ronni called, half lifting on the stairwell. The sound of punches and grunts competed with the sparking toaster filled with bullet holes.

  Lance cried out and fell hard, his head bouncing off the tile.

  “Lance!” Ronni crawled toward him, glass cutting into her hands, even with the gun in one. She reached him. Blood arced from his temple. She planted a hand on his chest to feel it moving. Good. That was good. A bullet appeared to have sliced his forehead, but there wasn’t a hole.

  She looked up.

  Chalton fought hand to hand with a man in all black in the living room, the two throwing furious kicks.
A chair spun out of their way.

  She swallowed.

  Another gunman started firing outside the kitchen, hitting the table above her head.

  She yelped, her chest heating. Slapping the gun into her waistband, she manacled Lance’s shirt and pulled him toward the basement. “Mabel?” she yelled.

  Mabel rushed up from the bottom, her eyebrow still bleeding, her eye all the way closed. “Can’t see very well.” The coroner frowned, and panic mangled her expression when she saw Lance. “Oh, God. Is he—”

  “Just knocked out.” Ronni grunted as she pulled his body down two stairs.

  Mabel breathed out and cradled his head. “Let’s get him to the panic room.” She half-stood, keeping his head from the steps.

  Ronni lifted his feet the best she could, and they hurried in getting him downstairs, bumping his shoulders and butt on the way down. She winced. He was too heavy for them to completely lift.

  They reached the bottom and dragged him into a large cement room complete with a couple of beds, canned food, and dead computer consoles. Olivia pushed off the floor and moved their way, her gaze still dazed.

  Ronni looked around. “See if you can get the computers running. There are probably cameras.”

  Mabel set Lance’s head down gently. “On it. I can’t see very well, Ronni. My vision is really fuzzy.”

  “Probably a concussion.” Ronni patted her arm. “Stay here, and lock the door if it seems like the gunmen are making their way down here.” The door was a thick steel and looked like it belonged on a bank vault. “Take care of Olly and Lance.” She drew out her gun and ran up the stairs.

  Reaching the top, she crouched and angled the gun outside.

  Jared flew by in a hard tackle, smashing a man into the kitchen table. The heavy wood gave, splintering to the ground.

  Another man in all black, his face covered, swung inside from the utility room. He pointed his gun at the back of Jared’s head.

  “Jared!” Ronni screamed, taking aim and firing.

  * * * *

  Jared felt a bullet whiz by his head on the heels of Veronica’s scream.

  He rolled off the guy he’d tackled, sending pieces of the table spinning across the floor. The guy groaned and punched him in the temple. Stars exploded across his vision.

  His fangs dropped, and his temper flew.

  With a growl, he shoved both fingers up the man’s neck, twisted, and pulled back.

  Blood sprayed to cover him.

  He threw the guy’s larynx and trachea across the room along with muscle, tissue, and a shitload of blood. The mass landed with a squishy pop against the cupboards. The corpse flopped twice and then went silent. Rolling back on his shoulders, Jared launched himself to his feet.

  Turning, he paused at seeing Veronica’s stark pale face. Shock widened her pupils as she stared at the dead man on the ground. The mask over his face still covered him to the nose, but a gaping bloody hole remained where his throat had been.

  She swallowed. “Ah.”

  “You shot me.” A man jerked round the door and grabbed her up. “Bitch.”

  Jared stilled. Something crashed in the living room. “Release her or…” He let the body on the floor finish his sentence.

  The man held her tighter, blood spurting from his leg. His gun settled against her ribcage. “We’re backing out of here. Now.”

  Her mouth dropped open and closed, her gun pointed down. She was definitely in shock. Yet her eyes focused, and her body straightened against the masked man holding her.

  The guy was about six feet tall, and the knit mask covered him from the top of his head to his chin. Only his eyes, a deep blue, could be seen. “Move,” he muttered.

  Jared looked at the gun, at Veronica’s wide eyes, at the bullet hole. He forced a grin. “You shot him?”

  She rubbed soot off her chin. “He was aiming at you.”

  Ah. What a sweetheart. “Nice shot. He’s gonna bleed out in no time.” Well, maybe. The blood seemed to be ebbing a little. Maybe she hadn’t hit a major artery.

  The guy started pulling her toward the destroyed kitchen door.

  “Let her go and I won’t kill you,” Jared said calmly, his peripheral vision catching Chalton staggering in from the other room to drop an unconscious man to the floor. It took a second, but he recognized the guy as the medical examiner from pictures he’d studied earlier that day. So Mabel had been correct. “Any more in there?” he asked his brother.

  “One dead,” Chalton breathed out, rolling his shoulders. “Kept this one alive.”

  “Good. He can answer questions.” Jared kept his gaze on the man holding his woman and forced his fangs to retract. It wouldn’t do to scare her any more than he already had. “Let Veronica go,” he ordered again.

  The man holding her didn’t answer and instead kept dragging Veronica toward the door.

  Jared leaped faster than a human could track, grabbed the gun, and yanked the barrel away from his woman. He spun her away and toward Chalton to catch.

  Then he grabbed the man by the throat.

  “Stop,” Detective Lance said, staggering up the stairs. “Don’t kill him.”

  Damn it.

  “Please, Jared,” Veronica whispered.

  Ah, shit. Fine. He knocked the guy to the ground and ripped off the mask.

  Lance gasped. “Lieutenant?”

  Jared glanced at the man he’d only met once at the party. The retiring Lieutenant Smalt? Now this was interesting.

  Chapter 14

  Ronni huddled in a blanket on the ruined sofa, sipping a cup of coffee Jared had forced into her hands. Olivia sat next to her, doing the same thing. Chalton had an arm around Olivia, his feet up on the scratched and bullet-riddled coffee table.

  The entire room was a mess of bullet holes, smashed glass, and destroyed furniture.

  Police detectives and crime techs milled around, taking notes and pictures. Lance supervised the process, a bandage across his forehead and around his arm. Mabel gave her statement to yet another cop over in the corner.

  Jared stood near the doorway, explaining once again how he’d ripped out the throat of the hired thug. Finally, he finished and moved her way to crouch in front of her. “We’ve been released. Let’s get out of their way and go upstairs.”

  Lance walked toward them. “Is everybody all right?” he asked, his eyes weary.

  “Yes,” Ronni murmured. “The lieutenant? Seriously?”

  Lance shook his head. “Apparently his retirement pension wasn’t enough for him. He stole the drugs from lockup along with his partner in crime, the medical examiner.”

  Her stomach hurt. “So the lieutenant poisoned me. And killed Walt.”

  “Walt must’ve figured it out somehow.” Lance sighed. “I’d bet the lieutenant did the actual killing. Unfortunately, he’s not stupid. He’s lawyered up.”

  Figured. “You’ll get him, Lance.” She forced a smile.

  “Damn straight,” Lance said, glancing over toward Mabel. “We have techs combing through his life right now.”

  “If you don’t get him, I will,” Jared said lowly.

  Lance blinked. “I did not hear that.” He turned to cross to Mabel, sliding an arm over her shoulders.

  “They make a nice couple,” Olivia mused, the color back in her pretty face.

  Chalton sighed. “Do you think Benny knows about the house?”

  Jared winced. “No. We’re still alive.”

  Ronni glanced from one to the other. “Will your uncle really try to kill you?”

  “Yes,” they both answered.

  “Well, that’s unacceptable,” she said, drawing the blanket around her aching body. “There has to be some way to appease him.”

  Jared ducked and lifted her into his arms, surrounding her with the sense of safety. Of security. Of something hot. “We’ll figure something out. If nothing else, he’ll want us breathing until we track down Ginny and the Benjamin file she stole.”

  Ronni settled
against his chest, feeling safe for the first time in way too long. “The what?”

  “File that holds all the information on our real and personal property. Bank codes, security codes…all tons of codes.” Jared made his way up the stairs to their bedroom, his steps sure and steady. “We have hard copies of the files, so that’s not the problem.”

  Ronni snuggled into his neck. “What’s the problem?”

  “Ginny, or whoever she’s working for, can steal from us.” He nudged the door open.

  Ronni sighed, closing her eyes. “So you’re loaded?”

  “I do all right,” he murmured. “Kept a lot of the bounty from my pirate days and then invested it.”

  Figured. Ronni grinned. “I knew there was more to Ginny than what we saw.”

  “I guess. I think Theo figured that out, too.” Jared placed her on the bed and kicked the door shut. “That was a great shot you made earlier. Thanks for keeping me from being shot in the head.”

  She smiled and reached for him, cupping his whiskered jaw. “I kind of like your head.”

  “I love yours.” He dropped to his knees, his hands on her thighs. “Though I should tell you that I love you. Everything about you. Am I’m so thankful fate brought us together.”

  Her heart heated and rolled right over. “You believe in fate?”

  He shrugged. “Have to. You’re too perfect, we’re too good together, to just have been a fluke.” He brushed her hair away from her face. “I’ll spend eternity loving you, baby. Keeping you safe. And happy.”

  She already was. “I love you, too. You’re everything I never knew I needed.”

  He grinned then. “Amen to that.”

  * * * *

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