Duncan frowned at her. "No, I meant she's in my freaking mind, reading my thoughts."

They stared at him and then all three of them burst into laughter.

"What's so damn funny?" Duncan growled at them.

Ian sobered and stood. Approaching him, he clapped his hand on Duncan's shoulder, an amused expression tilting his lips. "Welcome to our world, Dunc."

"I'm not that bad."

"Yes, you are," all three vamps said in unison.

Jax stood and approached Duncan with a knowing grin. "But we've just learned to block you-"

"Speak for yourself," Mark jumped in with a disgruntled look.

Jax cast a glance Mark's way, chuckling. "Well, some of us are more proficient at it than others." Winking at Mark, she turned back to Duncan. "It takes time and conscious effort, but you can block her, too."

"This is different," Duncan insisted. "I don't feel her in my mind like you guys have said you've felt my presence. She's just there, hearing my thoughts like..."

"Like an Anima would?" Ian asked while he wrapped his arms around Jax's waist and pulled her against him, kissing her on the neck.

"We're not mated," Duncan said, frustration rising within him.

"Don't tell me you don't think she's your Anima." Jax gave him a surprised look.

Duncan ground his teeth. "She refuses to mate with me."

Ian chuckled. "Sound familiar, a ghra?" he asked Jax.

Jax glanced up at her Anima with an innocent look on her face. "What are you talking about? I was such a pushover."

"If you count kicking my ass on several occasions, pushing me over, then I'll agree," Ian said. He met his brother's gaze. "You've just got to figure out a way to convince her she can't live without you."

Duncan gave him a dangerous smile. "She has to eat...eventually."

"Wait a minute, Mark told me that the Sythen converted Rose. Had you bitten her at all?" Jax asked.

Guilt swept through him at Jax's question even though he knew she was referring to Rose's conversion in general, not the battle of wills that just occurred upstairs.

"She claims I converted her."

"Whoa! Talk about dropping a bomb." Mark pushed off the wall. "But we saw her shift to a red jaguar. Only Sythens can shift into various forms, right?"

"Not into something as large as a jaguar," Ian answered in a clipped tone.

"I can't explain it." Duncan blew out a breath in frustration. "I only bit her twice prior to her conversion. Yet just now, I didn't taste the Sythen on her. If, by some strange miracle, I inadvertently converted her that might explain her ability to read my mind."

He narrowed his gaze on Ian. "Someone has to know more about these Sythens. What did Mom tell you?"

Ian's jaw ticced as he crossed his arms over his chest. "She refused to talk to me about Eamon and James. She said she wanted you present as well."

Duncan turned on his heel, headed for the door. "Let's go. I want answers."

He mentally spoke to Mark as he reached the front door. Mark, help Jax block Rose's scent. We may be a while.

Will do, came Mark's swift reply.

"What about Rose?" Jax stood in the foyer.

Duncan let Ian precede him out the door before he turned to answer Jax. "She's not speaking to me at the moment, so some time away is probably best. Mark will help you keep her safe." His voice softened as he spoke in her mind. She's my Anima, Jax, in all the ways that matter.

Jax nodded. It's about damn time you showed some emotion.

When he smiled, glad to have won her over to his cause, she finished as only Jax would. "But don't think I won't remind her that taking your blood will mate her to you, regardless of her wishes. She needs to walk into this with her eyes wide open."

Duncan snorted and replied in a dry tone, "She's well aware," before he walked out the door.

Duncan and Ian entered their parents' home and immediately walked down to the basement. Tressa Mordoor looked up from the book she was reading when they walked into the expansive library. Floor to ceiling bookshelves lined the walls so tall a rolling ladder had been installed.

Marcus Mordoor levitated in midair next to the books, a thick tome open in his hands. He floated to the ground, closing the book when his feet hit the floor. Dark brows drew together over cobalt eyes.

"Why does it take your mother requesting you both here for me to see my sons together?" He moved to stand next to his mate who sat in a velvet-covered reading chair.

"New addition to the library?" Ian nodded toward the book in his father's hand.

Marcus smiled. "Took me two years to acquire this one, but watch." His father handed his mother the book and held his hands apart. Sparks flew between his fingers, arcing until they connected with the sparks from the other hand. He lifted his hands above his head and the arcs grew, surrounding him.

"Come toward me," he said to Ian.

As Ian walked toward his dad, Duncan said, "I swear sometimes I think you have more in common with the Kantres than the Rueans."

When Ian got within a foot of his father, Marcus said, "Try to touch me."

Ian eyed the sparks. "Is my hair going to stand up on its own after this?"

"Just try, son."

Ian moved his hand and it seemed as if he was touching an invisible wall.

Marcus grinned, a proud look on his face. "What do you think? It's like my own personal force field."

Ian rubbed his jaw, smiling back. "I can see something like that coming in handy."

His father lowered his hands and addressed Duncan, "In answer to your comment, I do have Kantre blood in my family."

"You do?" Tressa looked surprised by his statement as she stood. "You never told me that."

Marcus cut his gaze back to his Anima. "The connection is distant, decades old, so it never occurred to me to tell you."

Her face brightened. "See, so you understand why I didn't..."

Her mate's face darkened. "Don't even try it, Tressa." Nodding to Ian and Duncan, he continued, "They have a right to know their heritage."

Ian and Duncan exchanged a "what the hell?" look before they met their mother's gaze.

Tressa eyed her sons as she played with a long strand of strawberry-blonde hair that had fallen from her French twist.

Sweeping her arm toward the couch, she took a breath. "Sit, boys."

Duncan crossed his arms over his chest and scowled. "I prefer to stand. I don't plan to stay long."

"Your mother told you to sit, Duncan," Marcus said in an authoritative voice.

Duncan looked at his dad in surprise. His father spent so much of his time in his books, seeking magical knowledge, Duncan often forgot the man was a vampire to be reckoned with in his own right.

While Ian and he sat down on the couch, his mother smoothed her hands over her royal blue silk lounge pants and then tugged her belt tighter around the matching crossover top.

"I told Ian I would only talk to both of you at once because I thought it best if you found out at the same time." She took a deep breath and met their curious gazes. "You're not half human."

"You're shitting us," Ian said with a laugh at the same time a sinking feeling hit Duncan hard in the stomach. He stood, fisting his hands by his sides. "Then what the hell are we?"

Tressa narrowed her gaze on Ian and Duncan. "Watch how you address your mother." She turned to Duncan. "You can get back to your woman when I've told you the rest."

Duncan's eyes widened and he glanced at Ian. "She just read my mind."

"As a priestess of the Atruans, I've always had the ability to read others' minds." Tressa's comment drew his attention back to her. "I've just never told anyone."

"Why?" Duncan growled. "Because you were too busy pretending to be human?"

"You're out of line, son," Marcus intervened. "I might've just learned of your mother's heritage, but I now appreciate and understand her reason for secrecy."

"What are the Atruans?" Ian asked in a quiet tone. He too had risen from the couch and stood beside his brother, his shoulders tense.

Tressa's gaze shifted from one son's face to the other. "The Atruans are known in the United States as the Sythens."

Rage welled within Duncan. All this time he thought he was half human.

"Why did you hide this from everyone?" Ian prodded.

"Over two centuries ago, I was born in Ireland, a member of the Atruan clan, but I wasn't like the rest of the vampires. I could walk in daylight. I didn't have fangs. I could read minds, I had broader shape-shifting abilities...my powers varied from the others. I also discovered I aged slower than the Atruan vampires of my blood. When I was seven, I went to live with the priestesses, as the Elders called us."

"Us?" Ian asked.

She nodded. "Apparently every few decades another 'special' female vampire was born, with similar differences from the Atruan clan. The clan Elders saw the potential for problems with aggressive male vampires who might want to mate with a female of such unique powers, so they declared an edict we were to be treated as priestesses and not allowed to mate.

"We were assigned a Guardian, a male vampire who had been handpicked by the Elders because of his unique ability to shape-shift to creatures much larger and heavier than his human form. Their special powers gave them an advantage over typical male Atruan vampires with limited shape-shifting abilities. The Guardians' entire existence was to keep us safe, not only from the males in the clan, but from another supernatural race known as Harvesters who preyed on the Atruan vampires."

"Were they a type of vampire hunter?" Ian asked.

His mother shook her head. "Not really. The Harvesters were like parasites, using us for a power source. They had the ability to harvest some of the vampire's powers as their own. But fortunately for us, the Harvesters only worked alone, preying on loner vampires who'd been separated from their clan. Because their narcissistic nature didn't allow them to be discriminatory, Harvesters also drained each other's powers if given a chance."

"They sound like a formidable foe," Ian said, concern etching his face.

"They could've been. But they never killed their quarry. In their minds, we were their 'power' supply and the fountain of youth all wrapped up in a 'life source' cocktail. If a Harvester came in physical contact with a vampire, given enough time, the Harvester would not only accumulate some of the vampire's powers, but the act would also shave years off the vampire's life while extending the Harvester's life span. Each 'hit' the Harvester took from a vampire usually supplied him with vampire-like abilities for a number of years."

Ian and Duncan glanced at each other, frowning.

"Don't concern yourselves with the Harvesters. They aren't a threat here." A satisfied smile crossed Tressa's face. "You see, when the Harvesters absorb some of the Atruans' capabilities, they also acquire their weakness-they can't walk in the daylight. So even if they could figure out a way to avoid sunlight while coming to the US, the extreme use of their powers to do so would drain them considerably. They would have no way to 'recharge' their powers without a vampire handy."

"How did you end up in the United States?"

A sad look crossed his mother's face at Duncan's question. "The Elders' system failed. Several of the Guardians who already felt powerful because of their Guardian status became even more arrogant. They wanted more power, coveting the longer lives the priestesses had. One night they attacked and kidnapped several of the women, intending to mate with them. If their plan worked, the Guardians' hope was that their mates' bite would extend their lives."

"Were you taken?"

Duncan sensed the anger in his brother's question. The same rage that filled him at his mother's story.

She shook her head. "I was just twelve at the time and thankfully my Guardian was one of those who refused to go along with the attack."

Her eyes softened as she continued, "We lived a peaceful, secluded existence, interacting with humans on a very limited basis. The Gods knew about us, but never intervened...until that day. Angered by the Guardians' treachery and the discovery the male vampires basically sought immortality, The Morrigan struck them down, freeing the women. But instead of killing the men, The Morrigan cursed the Guardians with a driving need to always protect their priestesses. In the end, the Guardians who betrayed their priestesses got the very thing they sought...immortality, but it came with a price.

"The Goddess told the traitorous Guardians they would reside their years living in the soil, only to be allowed to leave the earth once a year for an hour to feed. Once their time was up, they would return underground to await their priestesses' call for protection, which may never come." She sighed then forged on with her story.

"That's why we left Ireland. The Morrigan told the priestesses to leave the island, that staying there would only encourage the Guardians to seek us out when they arose once a year. You see, the Goddess didn't erase their need to take our powers. She saw it as the perfect punishment-leaving the desire to mate with us burning in their heads forever while they were cursed with the need to protect us above all else. It was a conflicting driving force the Guardian vampires were condemned to suffer...for eternity."

"James is a Guardian," Ian simply stated.

Tressa gave him a solemn nod.

"And so is Ronan Keegan," Duncan followed up.

Tressa's eyes widened. She put her hand over her heart and took a step back. "Ronan? You've seen him?"

Duncan gave her a solemn nod. "Yes. He attacked Rose. She's the human James kidnapped."

Tressa grabbed Duncan's arm, her green eyes searching his face. "Rose's mother's name? Did you learn it?"

He shook his head. "No. All I know is she left her a locket that read 'Protect me forever' in Irish on the back."

"Oh no!" Tressa's face drained of color.

Duncan caught his mother as she swayed on her feet. Lifting her in his arms, his chest tight with fear for her and for Rose, he tried to remain calm as he walked Tressa to the couch and laid her on it.

"What's wrong? I know Ronan's after Rose, but not why. Do you know?"

Tressa gripped Duncan's hand as Marcus sat down and put her feet on his lap, a worried look on his face.