W ind whipped her hair as she clung to Damian on the back of the Harley. Fields gave way to a dense canopy of hardwoods, cypress and live oak. Beside the one-lane road ran a winding ribbon of murky water. The smell of fresh water teased her senses. She buried her head against Damian's broad back.

With his art expertise in antiques, Alexandre was combing over the painting, but still hadn't found the next clue. Damian's frustration was apparent, but today he'd set it aside for the family gathering.

Finally they turned onto a dirt road. They rode for about two miles until reaching the end. A clearing about seven acres wide and long, peppered with trees, opened before them. On one side was the bayou. In the middle of the clearing was a charming two-story gray house with white shutters and a wide porch.

Damian brought the bike to a stop before the house and parked amid a cl.u.s.ter of cars and motorcycles. Jamie dismounted and pulled off the helmet. She smoothed down her wool pants, straightened the collar of her red cashmere sweater. The familiar barricades against families went up. No more emotional pain. She couldn't risk it. Another disappointment, more abandonment, or worse. She had tried to kill Damian by infecting him with the lethal virus. For that crime, Damian's adopted family might turn on her as her own family had. Only, his family had fangs and claws and were dangerous.

"Hey," he said softly. "You have nothing to worry about."

Anxiety clenched her stomach. Would they gawk, whisper? Shun her?

Herding her up the steps, he seemed carefree. Panic raced in her veins at the sound of a large group inside. Damian opened the screen door and whistled. "She's here!"

Conversation ground to a halt. A blush heated her face. Wonderful, here she went again, a real showstopper, maybe they wouldn't stare...

They entered a large dining room. Around a simple oak table were at least sixty people. Jamie gulped. And then they parted, and she saw what was on the table.

The cake was almost the size of a small desk. In childish letters was scrawled Happy Birthday Jamie. The group broke out into a loud chorus of "Happy Birthday, Jamie."

A surprise party for her. A big cake with lots of people wishing her well, and they were grinning at her. A lump rose in her throat.

Something tugged at her pant leg. She glanced down to see cherubic Ana, her blond hair done in pigtails.

"I helped with the icing," she chirped. "You said you liked pink, so we got you pink."

Twenty-one candles burned. Her vision blurred. This was what family should be, what she'd longed for always, the generous, all-encompa.s.sing warmth that sheltered you like a blanket, forgave you for stupid things you did and just accepted you for what you were. She swallowed back the tears and smiled.

Jamie scooped Ana into her arms. "I need help blowing all these out. That or a fire extinguisher."

"No," someone said in a thick accent. "That'd be Paw Paw. Nearly two thousand candles and we'd make the bayou dry."

Everyone laughed and then she and Ana blew the candles out. Damian introduced her in a blur of names and faces. His adopted parents, Remy and Celine, had dark eyes and dark hair. They enveloped her in a hug.

"Paw Paw's out back. I'll introduce you in a minute. Said his bones are too tired to stand for long. But first, I want you to meet Indigo. He doesn't live with the family, but we consider him our brother. He's half vampire, half Draicon." Damian drew her over toward a man towering over the crowd.

Jamie stared in awe at the colossal giant with black curls parted down the middle, spilling down his back. Six feet seven inches tall, body built like a tank, shoulders wide as a doorway. A close-cropped black beard darkened his face. His skin was coffee with a generous dose of cream, his origin, maybe Native American mixed with Polynesian.

His hand swallowed hers as he shook it very quickly, then dropped it. Indigo quietly wished her a happy birthday and walked away. The floor shook beneath his footsteps.

There were presents, lots of them. Little, thoughtful gifts like flash drives for her laptop, a handwoven silk scarf from Damian's adopted parents and a gold watch from his brothers. A new laptop from Damian, state-of-the-art. A sheepish grin touched his mouth.

"It's all I could do, after breaking yours," he told her.

Then the women cut the cake, setting large slices on paper plates. Her emotions teetered wildly as she clutched Damian's arm. "You threw this party just for me."

Tenderness shone in his gaze as he rubbed his thumb over her wobbly lower lip. "It's about time someone celebrated your life." He kissed the corner of her mouth.

They ate the cake and went outside. Insects hummed in the nearby trees. Brilliant sunshine chased away November's chill. In a rocking chair on the back porch sat an elderly icon. In overalls and a simple plaid shirt, he had white hair, a craggy face that resembled a well-worn road map. Wisdom and life shone in his watery blue eyes.

Reverence tinged Damian's voice as he introduced her. The man smelled like spices and pine forest. He sat up, beckoning for her hand. He took her palm gently, turned it over. Rheumy blue eyes widened. A muttering of rapid Cajun followed.

"That doesn't sound good." Jamie glanced at Damian.

Paw Paw squeezed her hand, his grip surprisingly strong. "You are a Maihaigh. In our old language, one who brings healing strength to our people. Your kind is extremely rare, with magick once all Draicon possessed."

Healing strength? When she'd tried to kill Damian? Jamie shook her head. "Maggie, in Damian's pack, is the one who heals. I...destroy," she whispered.

"Your strength will help bring us together as one and your powers will restore what was lost to our people. It's inside you, this power, but first, you must forgive yourself."

More tears blurred her vision. She scrubbed them away as she listened to him list her newfound powers. Telepathy. Traveling through s.p.a.ce and reappearing in another place. Levitation. Magick she'd craved all her life, yet the possibilities scared her.

"What if I can't control it? I don't want to hurt anyone."

"Damian will teach you. This is why he's your dracairon. He has learned his whole life to control his magick. You've been adrift your whole life and now you've found your direction."

Hope soared inside her. This was meant to be. Damian, someone who cared despite all her shortcomings, and knew exactly what she needed to survive. But did he love her? And could she dare to risk loving him, becoming absorbed into his world and all that went with it?

Damian pulled her upward, gathered her into his arms. "He's right. I'll be your direction, for now and always," he said softly.

For always. For as long as she lived, what time she had left. Jamie rested her head on his shoulder. No, she wouldn't think of that. Not today. Today was her birthday celebration.

A few of the pack formed an impromptu band on the porch with a fiddle, guitar and an accordion. After some coaxing, Gabriel joined them on the fiddle, singing in Cajun French.

The dancing started. Damian held her in a light grip as they did a two-step. Soon after, everyone took a break. When Jamie saw the females drift toward the kitchen and the males amble away, she put an immediate halt to it. She organized both genders into an efficient clean-up crew, making sure the males did their part. Then as she helped finish, Damian's brothers, even Indigo, started a game of football, laughing and jostling each other.

Jamie set down the plate she was drying, peered through the kitchen window. Damian held himself apart, looking with longing at the others roughhousing.

A gentle hand on her shoulder drew her attention away. Celine followed her gaze.

"Have I told you how happy we are that Damian found you? You make him feel young again. My son, he is young in age, but his spirit is ancient and weary."

"But I'm not Draicon. How can you just accept me without really knowing who I am?" The confession fled her lips and Jamie wished she could capture the words and stuff them back into her mouth.

Celine gave her an understanding smile. "It doesn't matter who you are, Jamie. We accept you for everything you are and aren't because you are Damian's mate. That's what family is about. You needn't worry about conforming or pleasing us. I can see how Damian looks at you and how the light returns to his eyes when he does. He needs you and that is enough."

No one had ever needed her before. "Go to him, Jamie," Celine told her. "Do what your heart tells you is true. He has been walking in darkness for too long. Be his light."

His light. His hope. After seeing the darkness tormenting him over his family's death, she understood. Jamie plucked at her pretty sweater. "Do you have any spare clothing? Something good for playing football?"

Minutes later, she emerged on the porch. Dressed in a sweatshirt two sizes too big, baggy sweatpants and sneakers stuffed with paper to make them fit, she headed for Damian.

He leaned against a st.u.r.dy oak. The familiar searching, wary look was back. Reluctant to relax, always on guard.

When the game broke up, the players clapped each other on the shoulder and sat on the gra.s.s, drinking tall gla.s.ses of lemonade. The abandoned football lay within reach. Jamie scooped it up, handed it to Damian.

"Here. Let me see how fast you can run, wolf. Throw it."

He stared at the pigskin as if she'd handed him a snake. She backed up, held out her hands. He tossed her a wimpy pa.s.s a day-old infant could catch.

Jamie zinged it back to him, the ball smacking him in the chest. Surprise widened his eyes. "Harder," she yelled.

A small smile touched his mouth. He sent it back, putting just the right spin. The ball increased velocity as it sailed toward her. Jamie missed.

She saw his brothers watching. Jamie jerked her head toward Damian. Mouthed a sentence, then tossed him back the ball.

Suddenly a wild yell split the air. Raphael barreled toward him with the relentless force of a charging...Wham! He tackled Damian, tumbling him to the ground.

And just like that, the game was on again. Jamie grinned, shoved her hair out of her face and sat on the picnic table to watch. After a few minutes, her mate-yes, her mate, the word sounded good-tugged his T-shirt over his head, and tossed it aside.

Sweat glistened on his brow, caught in the dark hairs feathering his powerful chest. Fascinated, she stared at the smooth muscles rippling beneath golden skin. His wide shoulders seemed strong enough to carry a log. His jeans rode low on his lean hips, hugged his taut a.s.s as he ran past.

The game ended. Warmth filled her at the sight of Damian's cheerful, wide grin. She tilted her head up to catch the sun. This was a great day. Maybe even the best day of her life.

Damian shrugged the shirt back on and grabbed her hand. "Jamie, come here. My brothers want to show you something."

He led her to where they sat. Damian nodded, turned her around so her back was to them.

When he turned her again, five gray wolves lay on the gra.s.s. One had black bands about his muzzle. Etienne, Alpha markings. Another had a distinctive white streak. Raphael. Indigo, the largest and most menacing, outweighed the others by a good fifty pounds. Terror clogged her throat, remembering that night...

"Sit." Damian gently guided her downward. "They would never harm you."

Gathering her courage, she watched them warily. They rose, one playfully b.u.t.ting the other against the b.u.t.tocks. One by one they approached, crawling toward her. And submissively, lowered their heads as they lay at her feet.

"Go ahead, touch them. It's all right," he told her.

She reached out in wonder, scratched the first one's ears. He gave her a big wolfish grin. "That's Gabriel. Turns to mush when you do that," Damian drawled.

Jamie closed her eyes, fear slipping away on four paws. When she opened them again, Damian's brothers were dressed and in human form.

Her fingers curled as she tugged on her sweatshirt. "Thanks, for all you did, in getting rid of that...thing that killed my brother."

Etienne gave a gentle smile. The others looked at her with solemn faces. Alexandre cleared his throat. Harsh lines on his face softened. He almost looked...wistful.

"We would do anything for the mate of our brother, to safeguard you from danger." A deep, wrenching sadness shone in his eyes, then he blinked, the emotion gone.

The others, Raphael included, all nodded. Even Indigo, that scary mammoth who looked as if he could crush cars with his fists. They would give their lives to keep her safe, she realized. The thought tightened her throat even more. They weren't wild beasts, but n.o.ble, proud males. Brothers. A real brother, not just a roommate as Mark had been.

The thought jolted her. She had never really known what family was all about, until meeting Damian. But could she a.s.similate into his world and dare to join in after being alone for so long? What if they changed their minds, turned on her as her uncle's family had?

To guard her thoughts, she broke the tension by standing and tossing the nearby football. Gabriel caught it one-handed.

"I think you're better in wolf form. You must be very fast when you're wolf." She grinned. "Faster than when you play football. Because you know what? You run like old ladies."

"Hey, I'm only a hundred and ninety," Gabriel protested cheerfully.

"I bet I can beat you in a race. You're all much older than me." Not giving them a chance to respond, she took off.

"Get her," Damian yelled playfully.

Laughing, they raced after her, their long legs effortlessly eating up the s.p.a.ce between them. Jamie grinned and ran faster, feeling a hand reach out, brush her lower back.

Panic exploded. Her back...

Suddenly time flipped back. She was seven years old again, running from her yelling cousins, a mob of frenzied anger. Adrenaline kicked in, making her legs pump harder until her thighs burned, screamed with pain. Jamie sobbed for breath, snagged her sweatpants on a branch.

Caught off balance, she went down, pants jerking down past her hips. Her panties, oh no, she'd worn the pretty silk thong just because she wanted to feel s.e.xy.

The ground felt cold against her face. She struggled to stand, but someone grabbed her wrists, kept her pinned.

"Hold her," a deep male voice ordered, laughing. "Don't let her get away. Damian's afraid she'll run away again from him. d.a.m.n, you're fast, girl."

Jamie screamed, struggling against the hands trapping her, the harsh masculine laughter...Caught again. She writhed and fought.

"Stop it," Rafe said sharply. "You're scaring her."

"Get off," Damian ordered in a tense voice. "This isn't play anymore."

Freed, she heard the hush of shock descending. Someone muttered, "Oh my good Lord. What the h.e.l.l is that?"

Shame filled her. She turned her head, saw Damian kneel down behind her. Felt him stroke the part of her no one ever saw, not even him when they'd made love. His fingertip gently traced the mark burned into her lower back.

"Jamie, oh, my beautiful Jamie, what did they do to you?" he whispered.

She closed her eyes, knowing what he saw. The crooked, ugly blue scars as stark as a scarlet letter, written in a childish hand. Carved into her skin by her cousins.

Witch.

As soon as Damian pulled to a stop before the house on Esplanade, she ran inside, fleeing for the refuge of her room. Bad enough for him to have seen her shameful branding, but his brothers? She felt like a victim of the Salem trials.

After she'd struggled to her feet, the shocked pity on their faces had shamed her. Damian knew how she'd gotten the mark. He'd slipped into her mind, seen the past sliding by like film images.

Jamie went to the bureau, fingering the big cotton briefs. They felt heavy in her trembling hands. Instead she dug through the layers, found a turquoise blue thong. It was lacy, feminine and delicate. She stood there, staring at it, wishing, oh how she wished...

Strong, lean fingers took the thong, set it down on the dresser.

"I wanted to wear it...to look pretty for you. As a surprise." Jamie laughed, slamming the drawer shut so hard the dresser shook. "Some surprise."

Damian cupped her face in his hands. "Look at me," he ordered quietly. "Jamie, look at me." When she did, he exhaled a long breath. "You are beautiful and nothing, no mark or scar, will ever mar my perception of you. Understand?"

Something eased inside her chest. "I hate it. I wish I could get rid of it. It makes me feel so ugly."

His thumb brushed over her dry cheek. "What about a tattoo? Indigo runs a shop. It's very clean, and safe. And I'll be with you the whole time."

A tattoo. Damian dropped a kiss on her nose. "Anything you want. But I have to warn you, it will hurt."

"Nothing can hurt as much as...what they did."