"Weapons are in the trunk," Hector told him.

He swung around back and popped the trunk. Sure enough, there were enough guns and blades to take down an army. He sheathed the smallest and sharpest of the knives and holstered two pyreguns. He even pocketed an extra crystal in case one of the guns misfired. He wasn't taking any chances this time.

" 'Bout time you joined us," Jaxon said, striding to his side. The agent palmed a mini-grenade, measured its weight, and gently placed it in his side bag. "Thought we were going to have to win this battle without you."

"Not likely," he said with a snort. "I've got skills you can only dream about." That earned him a laugh. "Just keep yourself alive, my man, and I'll be happy."

What was with everyone doubting his abilities? He'd screwed up once. Okay, twice. Big deal. "As you know, I can do things other people can't. I can move faster than anyone here." Besides Mia, but

she wouldn't leave Kyrin's side. "I've finally given over to my dark side, so I know I can handle this." He said it with confidence, his psychic knowledge assuring him of success. He also said it without a hint of disdain.

He'd always thought he'd feel more alien, the more he accepted his powers. He'd even expected to feel regret. Instead, he felt more like himself than he had in months. "I can scout ahead and see what we're dealing with," he added. "Let everyone know what's going on before they get there."

Having heard the conversation, Hector came up beside him and held up a computerized map. "Our boy is here. It's a straight shot, dead center, and impossible to miss; he's in a circular clearing, the only clearing, where helicopters land."

Dallas nodded. "You guys circle the entire area if possible and slowly close in. I'll give a shout if he goes invisible, so you'll know to wear your infrareds and watch for him."

Jaxon slapped him on the shoulder, his scarred face still etched in concern. "Got your own infrareds?"

His gaze scanned the trunk. When he found a pair of goggles, he nodded, grabbed them up, and fitted them around his neck. "Now I do."

"Nolan's been here ten minutes and hasn't moved from his spot," Hector said. "We think he's waiting for her."

Her. The queen. The one responsible for the cannibalistic disease. Selfish bitch that she clearly was, she screwed men without a care, damning them to either death or life as a killer while saving herself. Nolan had mentioned her unparalleled beauty, but no other power. What would he be up against?

"Thought he couldn't sense her anymore," Dallas muttered. What a liar Nolan was.

Once again he scanned the trunk, looking for anything else he might need. He saw a case of bright blue syringes and lifted one into the light.

"My own special blend," Hector said proudly. "It's four different sedatives for four different races mixed together, but it's not approved by AIR, so using it could get you into trouble. Some ingredients will probably work on more than one race, so there's a possibility of overdose."

"Work on the Schön?"

"Only one way to find out."

Dallas pocketed two of the syringes, then closed the trunk and peered into the thick trees. If he got in trouble for using the sedative, he'd deal. "Electricity turned off on the fence?"

Jaxon shook his head. "But it will be for ten seconds. Soon as I see you close in, I'll throw the switch. We can't leave it off, though, just in case Nolan makes a run for it. Don't want to make it easier for him, you know."

Dallas flashed both agents a confident smile. "Don't wait till I'm close to the fence to switch it off, because you may not see me reach it. Click it now." With that, he leaped into a sprint. As he ran, he opened himself up to the power inside him, swirling and ready to be used. Instantly he propelled into hyper speed.

A quick glance behind him showed that his friends now seemed to be moving in slow motion, barely achieving an inch per second. He reached the fence and scaled it, only cutting himself once. A minor scratch in his thigh, but it burned like hell. It was just as he was releasing the metal that the electricity kicked back on. A shock moved through him, but didn't slow him as he started running again, feet flying over grass and rocks.

He maneuvered around trees, their trunks and branches blurring into a haze of brown and green. As quickly as he was closing the distance, he was still able to see the things in front of him clearly, as if his vision tunneled ahead and his mind planned his actions accordingly, dancing him out of harm's way without incident.

Soon he reached the clearing. There was no reason to question whether or not he'd reached the right spot because Nolan was there, arms crossed over his chest as he waited. There were knives in his hands.

To aid the queen in case of trouble, or to kill her? Dallas had to wonder again.

He didn't slow but circled the area, too fast to be seen, keeping Nolan in sight as he debated what to do. Nolan had told Bride that the virus had helped Nolan dodge stun rays last time, but it had been Nolan himself who had absorbed the stun without actually freezing. Therefore, stun still wouldn't work.

He could kill him, he supposed. There was no dousing pyre-fire. But no. No longer was Nolan better off dead. Not when a cure for his disease might be floating through his system. He was a very valuable lab rat right now.

Dallas couldn't challenge him straight out, though, because the guy could go invisible, and then Dallas would have to fight him with infrareds, only able to see Nolan, oblivious to everything else around them. And if Nolan ran, the infrareds would be useless because Dallas couldn't give chase with them on. He'd slam into tree after tree. Closing in as they were, his friends could catch the bastard—maybe.

Maybe wasn't good enough.

A sheen of sweat broke out over his skin. He was going to have to knock the otherworlder out with Hector's cocktail. Or try to. While he waited for the stuff to work, if it worked, he'd have to pin Nolan down, never releasing him, never giving him the chance to escape.

A bright yellow and violet light suddenly hit the center of the clearing, as if the sun were throwing off heat missiles. The wind picked up, rustling leaves together. A soft whistle pierced the air.

Nolan straightened, stiffened.

Shit, out of time, Dallas thought. I have to incapacitate him before she arrives. He launched forward, fingers tightening around one of the syringes as he closed in on Nolan. The moment he reached him, he shoved the needle straight into the man's neck and pushed.

The warrior fell, shocked, the empty syringe buried deep. His body spasmed as Dallas kept him in a bear hug. Hot breath sawed in and out of his throat and lungs. His limbs shook.

"Mistake," the otherworlder gasped. "Big mistake. You won't be able to defeat her without me." But he didn't get up, and his eyelids closed. Every muscle in his body slackened.

Easier than Dallas had thought.

As Dallas released him, his own strength drained, as if he too had been injected with a sedative. He knew he hadn't. What the hell? He crawled to his knees, certain he wouldn't be able to stand and hold his own weight.

Hurry, he wanted to shout to the other AIR agents. Something's ... wrong... "You want to defeat me?" a soft voice said from behind him.

Dallas twisted to face the new speaker and groaned at the dizziness that assaulted him. That dizziness failed to dim the radiance of his visitor, and his jaw dropped. Standing before him was a goddess, an elfin queen. She had long pale hair tucked behind her pointed ears, chocolate eyes too big for her face, which somehow made her even lovelier, and heart-shaped lips. Her skin was several shades lighter than Dallas's, but still sun-kissed. She wore a long white robe that draped one shoulder and fell over her slender body in waves.

There seemed to be true concern on her face. True sadness at the thought that someone wanted to destroy her. This woman couldn't be Nolan's queen. His tormentor. The one responsible for the obliteration of several worlds and the death of the humans foolish enough to bed Nolan and his brethren.

"I'm sorry I had to drain you," she said, and she sounded as if she meant it. "I didn't want you to hurt me as you hurt my servant." Behind her were four warriors, all as handsome as Nolan, with the same bright eyes and symmetrical features. Each was heavily armed, watching impassively, ready to act when ordered.

Her servant. She was indeed Nolan's queen. Though everything inside Dallas screamed not to hurt so exquisite a creature—no wonder Nolan had been torn—he drew on a stubborn reserve of strength he hadn't known he possessed and whipped out his pyre-gun, thumb quickly setting it to kill, and started shooting. Better that they all died in this circle, even himself, than that they were unleashed on the world.

The men fell, new holes burned in their chests, their hearts scorched and unworkable, but Dallas's pyre-fire never touched the girl. Woman. Whatever she was. Killer. Monster. Yes. A lovely monster ... gliding toward him, a frown on her delicate face. Irresistible, he thought. Mine.

Every time he'd aimed at her, the barrel moved away of its own accord, as though they were both magnets and couldn't line up together. Or perhaps he switched his aim before pulling the trigger. He didn't want to hurt her.

What would it feel like to touch her skin? To shift her hair between his fingers, those locks that reminded him of rays of sunshine?

"You didn't kill me, so I'm not going to kill you," she said in that lilting voice of hers. The word yet slithered between them, unsaid but there all the same. "I need to get settled, anyway. But when my need is upon me, I will find you. Very soon, I hope."

She reached out and traced a fingertip along his cheek, his jaw. Each point of contact crackled as if

ice crystals bloomed. "So strong ... so handsome ..."

He wanted to flinch, but couldn't force himself to move. The world was going dark ... so dark ... her beauty fading from his view. A scream lodged in his throat. Don't leave me. Stay. The desire shocked him. She was evil, yet he wanted her near him, touching him some more. That cold was as addicting as a drug.

"Dallas, man. Wake up. Good job, man. You got him. You got Nolan."

"Wh-what?" He blinked open his eyes. He was lying flat on his back—when had he fallen?—and the pale blue of the sky came into view, thick clouds hanging in a line. He angled his head, peering at the clearing. It was empty. "Where is she? Where are the bodies?"

Hector frowned. "What she? The queen? Was she here? And what bodies?”

“The girl, yes, the queen. The guards. Four guards. I shot them. Burned them."

"There weren't any bodies when I got here, and they didn't go invisible because half of us were wearing our infrareds and there was no body heat in the area. And if you'd shot them, we would have seen the line of your fire."

Slowly he sat up, fighting the return of the dizziness. "They were here. I swear to God they were here."

Hector patted his shoulder. "You were out like a coma victim when we came through the trees. Sure you didn't dream it? Your weapon is holstered, and it hasn't been fired."

"It wasn't a dream," he insisted.

"Okay, okay." Concerned, Hector slid an arm around his waist and hefted him up.

"Mishka and Jaxon are taking care of Nolan. Let's get you to medical."

CHAPTER 21

Bride expected treachery. An attack against Devyn. Something. But it never came. In silence, they drove to a canyon three hours away. It was a dry, barren wasteland with no resources humans needed to survive. There, they scaled down ... down ... into a shadowed valley of sandstone and dirt, the air almost like acid in her nose. Boulders abounded, each identical to the last.

Devyn kept an arm around her waist, holding her up. He probably thought she would have tumbled into the waiting void below if he'd released her. Wasn't like she was clumsy, but she had stumbled a few times. Not her fault, though. She was distracted, having to guard her thoughts to keep herself from wishing she was already underground.

Why was Devyn making this trip? He'd said he wanted her. He'd even been jealous of McKell. But that wasn't reason enough to put himself in danger like this. And he was in danger. McKell clearly hated him.

Devyn had proven he could handle the vampires, yes, but that didn't stop her worrying for him. He was only one man. What was worse, however, was that the worry didn't stop her from being glad that he was here. She wasn't ready to say good-bye to him. They'd just started having sex again.

Sure that's the only reason you're happy to be with him?

Shut up. There were more important things to consider.

What if the vampire king tried to pawn her off on McKell? She did not want another forced marriage—she wouldn't stand for it. The vamp was friend material that was all. There was no raw, animal need, as there was with Devyn.

Finally, McKell stopped at a boulder, no different from any of the others, and nodded. His men marched forward and rolled it aside, their muscles bunching and straining.

Four guards waited on the other side, each armed with pyre-guns and spears. Bride tried to step in front of Devyn, but he restrained her with his mind, the bastard. Oh, yes. She was finding one of those energy scramblers.

The guards gave their profiles when they saw McKell, deferring to his superior rank. The warrior motioned for her and Devyn to follow him.

They entered without hesitation, sharing only the briefest of looks. Hers, tension-filled. His, darkly resolved.

What are you planning? she wondered.

Bride's eyes widened as she focused on her surroundings. This could have been her home, she thought. It was murky, but no match for her eyesight; she saw everything perfectly. The walls were painted black and jagged, multiple smears of crimson throughout. Like finger marks, where nails had dragged in protest.