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I turned again to leave, but he held on to me, his hands stronger than I’d anticipated.

“You will have dinner with me. Tomorrow night. ” He looked at the watch on his wrist and laughed, then corrected himself. “Tonight. ”

“Umm. ” It hadn’t sounded like a request, but the look on his face told me he was still expecting a response. “Okay?”

The coming night was shaping up to be as relaxing as the previous one had been. Meet with Holden and the Tribunal. Explain to Keaty about my new puppy fan club. Deflect Mercedes’s questions about Lucas. Have dinner with my billionaire soul mate in his penthouse.

Yup. Sounded like a totally average Thursday.

Chapter Eleven

The sky was dark gray and overcast when I got outside. I still needed to find a cab in a hurry, but at least I didn’t have to hide the smell of my own burning flesh. While the driver shuttled me westward to Hell’s Kitchen, I called Keaty to tell him I was fine and asked him to call Mercedes for me.

Safe in my apartment, I staggered into my bedroom, which was a promising pitch black. Because of the danger posed by even one errant beam of sunlight, I couldn’t trust curtains to protect me during the day, so I’d bricked the small window closed, telling my landlord it was to keep burglars out.

Collapsing onto my bed, overwhelmed by the daytime exhaustion that rendered vampires dead during daylight hours, I fell asleep straight away.

I was back in Central Park.

I knew the moon was full without seeing it, because I had the unsettling sensation something liquid and hot was burning under my skin, looking for a way out.

I heard a low growl but could not pinpoint its location. It came at me from every direction and never from the same place twice. Through the thick fog of trees the growl was coming closer, and I realized it was not one growl but many.

A pack.

My instinct was to run, and who was I to ignore my fight-or-flight reaction? My feet moved to escape but became tangled in the long dress I hadn’t noticed I was wearing. The only dresses I owned were short and low cut, designed to titillate vampiric thirst. The garment I now found myself in had layer upon layer of rustling tulle skirts cinched together at my waist in a breathlessly tight corseted top.

A wedding dress.

I tried not to focus on why I was wearing a wedding gown in the woods. Instead I turned my attention back to the pack of growling wolves I could hear but not see. My heart pounded against my sternum as I grabbed armfuls of fabric and started to run through the woods. The smells and surroundings became more and more familiar as I fled. Branches pulled at my hair and dress, and I realized I was following the same path I’d chased Henry Davies down the night before. It meant the Great Lawn couldn’t be far. My dress caught a low exposed root, and I toppled to the ground, cutting my hands on rocks and sticks as I braced my fall. I got to my feet and picked up the hem, where I accidentally smeared blood from my palms on the perfect white.

I felt guilty for ruining the fabric.

The wolves drew nearer as I began to run again. This time I made it to the lawn, where I could see someone who looked human standing alone on the empty field. I tore across the grass with all the speed I could muster. I didn’t think anyone could save me from the monsters at my heels, but just seeing another living person felt like finding salvation. As I got closer I saw that my mysterious savior was Lucas.

He wore a tuxedo cut so well James Bond would be jealou

s, and smiled when he looked at me.

I reached him in a panic, out of breath, collapsing in a foamy white pile at his feet with my arms covering my head, braced for the gnarling teeth of wolves to rip me apart.

But there were no teeth. The growls, too, were gone. The only sound in the night was a soft chuckle from above. I looked over my shoulder and confirmed that there were no wolves in the field.

I felt a strong hand on my shoulder and was soothed by it.

“Lucas, you must think I’m an idiot. ”

The hand squeezed and the chuckle became a low, menacing laugh.

“Secret McQueen, mon chéri, I believe you are no man’s fool. ”

The voice didn’t belong to Lucas, but I knew it all the same. It was pure Cajun loathing. A bone-jarring shudder rolled over me, and my head was slow to respond to my body’s fearful commands, but I finally looked up.

Just in time to see Alexandre Peyton, vampire in my wolf’s clothing, lunge for my throat.

Chapter Twelve

Waking up wasn’t as dramatic as the dream. I didn’t scream or sit bolt upright; I merely awoke with my breath stuck in my throat and a layer of icy sweat on my skin.


Tags: Sierra Dean Secret McQueen Paranormal