Seduced by Blood. Laurie London

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      It had to have been someone on the capture team who’d told Brenna what had happened, not Santiago. She recalled how he’d arrived on the scene and taken charge, as if he was the one who took those guys down and not her. He was a typical domineering male who worked on the Agency side of things. It had come as no surprise that he didn’t take her up on her offer to help track the DB den. Men like him preferred to do things themselves and get all the glory, which was fine with her. She preferred to work on her own as well, though she’d just as soon stay out of the limelight.

      From what she’d heard about Santiago, she figured he’d have a forceful personality, but she hadn’t been prepared for how formidable he looked. With short dark hair, a square jaw peppered with stubble, and a rigid, soldierlike posture, he was six and a half feet of pure dangerous male. And then there was that strange tattoo on the side of his neck, which stretched into his hairline. She hadn’t been able to see where it began or ended and even now, she found herself wondering how far it went. To his shoulder? His arm? Maybe down his torso?

      And that voice of his. Oh, God, that voice. Rough around the edges like the gravel that had worked its way into her shoes during the Darkblood scuffle, and just as hard to ignore. She wondered what her name would sound like on his tongue. But then she remembered those eyes—hard and unforgiving—framed by equally dark thick lashes. It was as if he had the ability to look straight into her soul and didn’t like what he saw.

      He was definitely a man to be avoided. She shoved him from her thoughts and turned her attention back to Brenna.

      “Lily wanted me to tell you about Finn, my husband-to-be. He’s human and a sweetblood, which…ah…explains the smell on me. Most don’t notice it, but Lily said you definitely would, considering that you basically trained all the trackers working in the Agency today.”

      Roxy had noticed the scent but assumed it was because Brenna worked in the clinic. “I don’t know about all of them.”

      “Most then. How’s that?”

      It was somewhat unusual for a vampire to be in a relationship with a human, much less a human who was a sweetblood and knew that he was in love with someone who could kill him.

      Brenna continued, “Finn’s a helicopter pilot for the Seattle field but doesn’t come to region much. Not all of us can be trusted being around a sweetblood. I still worry about myself sometimes, although he has been trying to talk his way into becoming a changeling.”

      Although changelings were relatively rare, Roxy had met a few of them over the years. Except for those who’d been illegally turned against their will, most went through the transformation because they fell in love with a vampire. A painful process that required the blood of two vampires, it had to be approved by the Council after a long waiting period, but it was possible.

      “There must be something really special between you then. Sounds like he’s totally in love with you.”

      “Yeah,” Brenna said, staring into her cup. “And I’m crazy about him, too.”

      Roxy detected some reluctance. “You don’t want him to become a changeling?” Some vampires thought of themselves as monsters, was that it? Brenna didn’t want the love of her life to become like her?

      “Oh, God, I want nothing more than to live out our long lives together without worrying about my friends and coworkers being around him. And he wants to be just one of the guys in the Seattle office. It’s just that I’m worried about the actual process, you know? It’s not without risk. He could die. Given my line of work, I see the worst of the worst. Motorcycle accidents, gunshot wounds, regeneration problems, head traumas, silvies that miss the heart by inches. To knowingly put my man in danger like that is not something I’m prepared to do. I like him the way he is. Alive. But believe me, he’s trying to wear me down.”

      Roxy wrapped her hands around the mug and found it to be just a notch below scorching now, so she took a sip. “Roasted green tea. Lily knows me too well.”

      Brenna smiled, the trace of worry gone from her eyes. “Speaking of Lily, have you heard how she’s doing?”

      “No, and I’m not really expecting to either.”

      “You’re not?”

      Roxy shook her head. “I told her if she so much as checks in with anyone here, I’ll know about it.”

      “Sounds like she listens to you. I could’ve told her that but she never—” Brenna’s pager vibrated. She glanced at it then stood up. “Gotta go. Hey, do you run? I could show you some great trails around here.”

      “That’d be nice, but isn’t it too cold to be outside?” She remembered just how chilly it was when she found Mason. Would her warm-weather body be able to withstand the frigid elements well enough to go running? She certainly didn’t have the right workout clothes. Hell, when she got to her room after yesterday’s adventure, she’d never been more thankful in her entire life to see an electric blanket on her bed. “I’m kind of a wimp when it comes to cold weather.”

      “It’s actually been mild for this time of the year,” Brenna said, her hand on the door, “but I forgot you’re from Florida. Do you swim? We’ve got a great pool.”

      The two women made plans to meet later so that Roxy could get a tour of the region’s pool and gym facility located on the far end of the complex.

      Besides, she had a lead—albeit a slim one—about Ian’s death that pointed to the Seattle area, so she wanted to ask the woman a few more questions about Agency operations here. Although she didn’t hold out much hope—all her previous leads had gone nowhere—she couldn’t not investigate.

       CHAPTER THREE

      SANTIAGO AWOKE EARLY. His sheets were sandpaper against his skin, his pillow a contoured brick under his head.

      He threw back the covers, his feet hitting the cold tile floor with a thump, and stumbled to the small refrigerator he kept in his sleeping quarters. He ate a piece of leftover pizza and chugged orange juice directly from the carton.

      With the sun still high in the late-September sky and his delivery not coming till later, he couldn’t leave for the Ridge yet, though he was antsy to get up there. Only a handful of his top people knew he had a home located in a remote part of the mountains but even they didn’t know what he did there. Frankly, it was no one’s business but his own.

      He hadn’t been expecting to go again so soon, but running into Ms. Reynolds had changed his plans. When she’d pointed out the fact that Darkbloods had located a den so close to region HQ, he didn’t need to see the disdain for his leadership in her expression—he could hear it in her voice. But then, as always, he needed to be realistic. She’d identified his weaknesses and, as much as he hated to admit it, things had to be dealt with.

      Although he could’ve used her help in tracking down the den, he’d managed to find it on his own. Given that Darkbloods were notoriously sloppy and the tiny house had been clean, almost barren, it was obvious that the place hadn’t been in operation for long. Even their coffins—which most DBs were sleeping in nowadays as a nod to their violent ancestors—weren’t there yet. He and the capture team had lit the place on fire and watched it burn to the ground.

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