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  Oh, she understood all right. She straightened in her seat when he exited the highway at the edge of Mercy Lake, her safe little town on the outskirts of Boston. Her stomach dropped as she realized there was only one place they could be going. “You’re taking us to the private airport?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?” The exclusive airport was used only for corporate jets and small water planes.

  “Because that’s where the plane is.” His tone didn’t invite further discussion.

  “I can’t fly somewhere in my nightshirt.” The comment slipped out before she could stop herself.

  He turned in surprise, flashing a smile that did odd things to her belly. Man, she was losing it. “I told you to bring the basket of clothes.”

  “Listen,” she tried reasoning with him again. “Let us go, and we won’t tell anybody. I promise.”

  “I appreciate that,” Talen said dryly. “But I told you I can’t. You’re in danger.”

  “Right. Danger.” Dread pooled in her stomach as they rolled to a stop before a sleek silver jet. He switched off the ignition and silence echoed throughout the space. He turned to her, raising an eyebrow.

  “Are we going to have a problem getting on the plane?”

  “We are not getting on that plane.” She needed to get Janie out of the car so they could run for help. She unsnapped her belt.

  A hand on her arm and one at her hip easily lifted her over the console to settle on his lap where her ass briefly rested against the hard ridge of a well-built man. Another smooth motion and they were outside the vehicle with her cradled in his arms. His broad hand had protected her head from the steel carriage, even as she fought his hold.

  She jammed an elbow into his ribs.

  His face dipped to confront hers. “Cara. Enough. I doubt you want your daughter to see you slung over my shoulder being carried onto the plane. Flashing those pretty pink panties.”

  Cara gaped at him, her breath coming in short gasps. He took advantage of the reprieve to drop her to her feet and open the rear door. “Unbuckle Janie.”

  His warm body trapped her in place; she had no choice but to unbuckle her daughter. She lifted Janie up and small arms clutched her neck. “They’re still coming,” Janie whispered.

  “I feel them, too,” Talen said, his breath stirring her hair. One hand enclosed her arm in a vise. “Let’s get out of here.” He slammed the door shut.

  Waves of urgency battered Cara from both sides, propelling her toward the silent plane even as her mind rolled with questions. With reservations. Maybe she and Janie should try to take the Hummer.

  “Stop thinking so hard.” Talen released her arm while giving her a gentle push up the small steps. “We’re leaving. Now.”

  “Go, Mama. Hurry,” Janie implored.

  Cara gave in. She climbed up the steps to sit on a thick grey couch. Janie snuggled up to her side with a sigh of relief, and Cara buckled them both in. Talen secured the door and reached into a cubby above the windows for a blue blanket, which he handed to Cara with a grin. No threat came from him, at least none directed at her. As he dropped into a seat facing her on the couch across the narrow aisle, the engines roared to life, and the plane taxied toward the runway.

  Chapter 2

  Talen allowed himself to relax as the plane leveled off. They were safe. He smiled at Janie while the girl studied him. She was awful tiny to have demolished three centuries of peace. Crocus blue eyes shot curiosity and daring from her young face as she spoke. “So, are you going to protect us?”

  Cara jumped at the child’s voice. The small jet lifted into the air like a predator on a mission while two pairs of identical blue eyes focused across the tiny aisle.

  “Is that all right with you?” He turned his gaze on the child. She fascinated him. So fragile, even the whispering wind would threaten her. A real child. Human.

  Janie squinted before looking his frame up and down, and reaching a decision, she nodded solemnly, her “yes” a bare whisper of sound. The knuckles on her tiny fingers clenched white on her mother’s hand.

  Talen remained silent for a moment, taking in the pale features of the two females. The blue blanket enfolded them both. Knowing full well what he pledged, he spoke. “Yes. I’m here to protect you.” His vow threaded through the cozy cabin, and the child let out her breath with a smile while Cara frowned, glancing around. Probably for a weapon.

  He knew what he’d promised, and since he hadn’t broken a promise in his long life, he refused to start now. He studied the two as the plane gained altitude. Both had long, curly hair the color of burnished teak, deep blue eyes, and delicate bones. Something close to protectiveness nudged his conscience.

  Janie gave him a toothless grin. “So you comed for us. Finally.”

  She tugged the tattered brown bear closer to her chest, and Talen grinned. Mr. Mullet did indeed wear a faded blue mullet as his hairstyle. Talen settled into the plush couch. “I’m here for you, Janie.”

  “Who are you?” Cara pulled Janie even closer.

  Talen sighed. “I’ll explain once we get to DC, Cara. All I can tell you right now is that you’re safe.”

  “I don’t think so. What the hell’s in DC?”

  “Who is in DC.”

  “All right”—her pretty eyes narrowed to daggers—”who the hell is in DC?”

  The muted interior lights illuminated her fragile features. The stirring in his loins now made sense to him. He’d felt the change in his skin, in his blood the second he’d touched her, and now had proof of their connection on his palm. Forever. He refrained from studying his hand again—he’d do so later. “The Director of the U.S. Marshal’s Service.”

  “You aren’t a U.S. Marshal.” She hurled the words as an accusation. A dare, even.

  He grinned. “Not even close, darlin’.”

  “Explain.”

  The accusation and dare he could’ve ignored, but the plea, the concern from a mother attempting to protect her child, well, even he couldn’t disregard that. And considering they had just become his, he should try to make them happy.

  “I don’t know all of the details, only that you’re in danger. The life you’ve been leading is now over.”

  “What kind of danger?”

  He studied her, wondering how much he should reveal. The woman looked to be on the edge, and unfortunately, there wasn’t much he could do about it—if he told her everything, well …

  “Your eyes are wrong.” Janie’s soft voice wound through the shrill sound of high-end jet engines.

  “My eyes?” He fought a grin. His brother Dage was correct, as usual. Janie was beyond gifted, beyond a normal psychic.

  “Yes. They’re not sposta’ be brown.”

  “Maybe they aren’t,” he agreed.

  “Contacts—like on TV?” Janie scrunched her face in a frown.

  “Contacts,” he affirmed.

  “Can you take ’em out?”

  “Not yet. Later I will.”

  “Okay.” The little girl leaned against her mother before closing her eyes with a sigh.

  A chill skittered along Cara’s spine as she listened to the exchange. What was wrong with his eyes? Why did Janie know about it already? Why did the sweet child have to see the future at all?

  If Miss Kimmie didn’t call to check on them, then surely Dr. Phillips, Cara’s boss, would call. The jerk was under a deadline to keep his grant, and he needed her at work. Her research into creating a virus that would enhance the crop yield of corn showed enough promise to glean two solid grants for the next year. And oh God. Her sister Emma would go freaking crazy. She’d tear apart the U.S. Marshal’s Service to find them.

  Cara straightened in her seat, digging her nails into her moist palms as Talen kept his gaze on her. She lifted her chin to glare at the large man sitting so relaxed across the aisle. His size made her feel small. Vulnerable. Feminine.

  He had a body designed for billboards. His thick chest, narrow waist, and long legs s
howed power and strength. Bold eyes sat in a hard face softened not at all by its own beauty; a masculine starkness that would render an observer speechless from afar. This close the effect was devastating.

  “It’s going to be all right, Cara.” His voice gentled as he settled farther back in the couch. “You’re safe now.”

  She refused to answer and continued to study him. Dark eyebrows slashed over those brown eyes that apparently weren’t quite right. High cheekbones protruded as ridges over deep hollows, and his jaw clenched strong and formidable. And his mouth. God. Full lips didn’t hint at a hidden sensuality; they boldly promised heated sex. Without apology. Minutes before those same lips had been on hers, and as they tipped up at her appraisal, a stirring tickled in her belly. An unfamiliar stirring the scientist in her yearned to investigate.

  The woman deep within knew better.

  He gave a full grin. “I suggest you get some rest, darlin’. Life just became very interesting.”

  “What about my plants?” she mumbled, hating the words even as they tumbled out of her mouth. What the heck? She and Janie had just been taken by an enormous soldier who kissed like the devil, and she was worried about her plants.

  Talen lifted an eyebrow. “Your plants at your house?”

  She nodded, biting her lip.

  “I’ll take care of it.” At her frown, he nodded. “I promise, Cara. Your plants will be cared for.” He cleared his throat. “Any other concerns?”

  Pure arrogance, this man. “Yes. My sister Emma will go crazy trying to find us.” As soon as tomorrow night, when they were supposed to have dinner. “I need to call her.” Their parents had died just before Cara had turned sixteen; eighteen-year-old Emma had raised her from that point. As always, they’d make a plan together.

  A slow shake of Talen’s head had the nerves jumping along Cara’s skin. “No. Let’s get to the Marshal’s service, and we’ll figure everything out from there. Don’t worry about the plants or your sister—you can trust me. Now try to get some rest.” He crossed his long legs at the ankles and closed his eyes.

  She had no choice but to trust him. Her plants would be all right, and she’d figure out a way to get a hold of Emma. Next to her, Janie mumbled in her sleep. Damn it. Janie had a play date with a new friend tomorrow. And Cara had a grown-up date. The first one in—God, how long? The accountant who’d been calling her for months suddenly seemed, well, small. Boring. Pasty. Cara turned away from the bulky soldier relaxing across the aisle. Wide awake, she watched the clouds flash by out the window.

  Two hours later Cara stared at the maple conference table while Janie happily ate a doughnut next to her. Crumbs dropped like snow on the smooth surface. They had been waiting for thirty minutes in the innocuous metal building to the left of the small runway, but at least new jeans and sweaters had been provided for them. The quiet of the room lulled her toward a much needed sleep.

  She hoped she’d be able to keep her daughter safe. Danger swirled around them with a breath of its own. She may not have the clear sense of Janie, but she knew it was there. Her gaze focused on a pretty row of African violets lined up against the window—purple, pink, and white. Calmness settled over her.

  She stroked Janie’s wild curls as the steel door opened, and a slender, older man in his mid-sixties entered in front of a grim-faced Talen. The man’s gunmetal hair was mussed, the lines on his face carved with a dull knife. She straightened in her chair as they took seats across the small conference table, waiting for one of them to speak.

  “Ms. Paulsen, I’m Director McKay, and I want to apologize for this morning’s drama.” He reached out to pat her knuckles, his liver-spotted hand chilled. Unease wound through his body while his breath came in short bursts. Her own body tensed in reaction—now she couldn’t even block this guy’s emotions? The director’s gaze flicked to Talen and back again.

  “Director,” Cara pinned the man with her best “mom stare.” “I want an explanation.” He may be afraid of the silent menace next to him, but she wasn’t.

  Director McKay cleared his throat before smiling. His lips wavered a bit. “Well, simply put, Janie and you have been targeted by the Merodize gang out of New York.”

  “The who out of what?” Cara shook her head. “A gang? There’s no way some city gang has ever heard of us, trust me. What’s really going on here?” She swung a narrowed gaze at the motionless man next to the director. “Well?”

  “Ms. Paulsen,” the director huffed before grimacing at Talen. It was obvious who was in charge.

  Talen leaned forward. “The gang is irrelevant; it just serves as foot-soldiers for the Kurjans.”

  “The Kurjans? Sounds like some weird terrorist group. What could they want with us?” Cara asked, just as Janie sucked in her breath, causing all eyes to turn to her.

  “They’re real?” Janie asked Talen, her face paling to the color of wet paste.

  “They’re real,” Talen confirmed, his jaw firming. “But I promise they won’t hurt you, Janie. You’re safe, on my life.”

  Every motherly instinct came alive in Cara when her daughter began to tremble. “Who the hell are the Kurjans?” She slammed her hand on the table before rising.

  “Sit down.” She found herself obeying Talen’s sharp command before thinking about it. He scowled. “The Kurjans are a mutual enemy. For reasons we don’t need to go into now,” he nodded subtly at Janie, “their main goal is to kidnap women. Those with enhanced abilities are especially sought. They now want you, Cara.” He narrowed his gaze on her. “And your research abilities would be an added bonus.”

  The blood pounded in her head as her eyes widened on the two men. Her research abilities? There was no way some Iraqi terrorist group was searching for women with enhanced abilities. Or for those, like her, working to alter plant genetics to be more resistant to diseases. What in the hell was going on? Fine, she’d play along for the moment, at least until she could grab her daughter and run. “What enhanced abilities?”

  “Come on, Cara. You don’t need to hide anymore.” Talen’s jaw hardened even more.

  “It’s okay, Mama,” Janie whispered, patting her mother’s knee. “He already knows.”

  “Fine.” The one word was all she was willing to give at this point. “So, what now?”

  Talen cleared his throat. “I need a list of your relatives.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “A list. You mentioned your sister—is she an empath, too?”

  Hell no. None of his freaking business. “No.”

  His massive shoulders straightened, and he leaned forward to grab her hand. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes.’ If the Kurjans are after you, they’ll search for your sister, too. Where is she?”

  Raw and hot terror sped through Cara’s veins. She searched his face, seeking truth. “You’ll help her?”

  He gave a short nod. “Yes. I’ll send someone immediately.”

  The moment mattered. Trust hurt. Cara gulped in air and gave Emma’s work and home address. So close to her own house. God, please let Emma be all right.

  Talen nodded and grabbed a cell phone from his back pocket, using speed dial before barking out orders. Soldiers would retrieve Emma the next day. He clicked it shut. “Any other relatives?”

  Retrieve Emma? Boy, her sister wasn’t going to like that. “Not that I know of.” Her mother had been an only child and who the hell knew about the bastard that had been her father. Who the hell cared? “What is really going on here?”

  The director eyed the door. “Mr. Kayrs can explain the whole situation to you while Janie and I hunt up more doughnuts.” He stood.

  “No, wait,” Cara grabbed for Janie’s hand.

  “Cara,” Talen’s deep voice thickened. “We need to talk. Alone.”

  Janie leaned forward. “It’s okay, Mama. I’ve dreamed about Talen. He’s okay. I know it.”

  Cara shook her head, dread pooling in her stomach as Janie left with the director. A slow anger began to burn away the dread. She
glared at Talen. “So talk.”

  He took a deep breath. “The discovery of your daughter has ended nearly three centuries of peace between my people and the Kurjans.”

  “Janie? What people?”

  Talen pursed his lips, a frown settling between his eyes. Shrugging, he yanked a brown contact out of one eye, then the other.

  “What the—” she gasped. Luminescent gold eyes glowed like molten lava. She pushed away from the table only to have Talen grab her wrist, flattening her hand under his.

  “Stay. There’s a lot more.” He smirked and rolled her chair closer.

  “This is a trick.” She glared at the impossible golden hue, the heat of his hand overpowering the coolness of the table beneath her own.

  “No trick, Cara. I am a protector of the Sanguisuga race.”

  “Sanguisuga? Isn’t that Latin?” She’d taken only two semesters of the language in college.

  “Yes.”

  “For what?”

  His grip tightened on her wrist. “Vampire.”

  Cara coughed out a laugh. “You’re a vampire?” Her gaze swung to the door. Where was Janie?

  Issuing another of the deep sighs she was starting to equate with him, he smiled. Two sharp canines instantly emerged.

  “Oh God.” Cara struggled to yank back her hand.

  “Do I need to bite you for you to believe me?” Interest and something darker wove through him, into her. She fought to block herself from his emotions.

  “No. No biting.” Her mind reeled while reality spun away. “This can’t be true.” She shook her head. “But you were out in the sun. It was early, but the sun was out.” This wasn’t happening.

  “The sun only bothers the Kurjans, Cara. We’re fine with a day at the beach.”

  “They’re vampires, too?”

  Talen shrugged. “No. They’re monsters.” His canines retracted.

  “But they have fangs and drink blood?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you drink blood?”

  “Only in extreme situations.”

  “Extreme?” This couldn’t be happening.