"We haven't seen this anywhere else."

"Talon's boys are more violent than most of them. These are essentially huge orgies and feasts for initiating newbies," she replied. "Nasty gatherings."

"What do you have as far as sources in Talon's gang?"

"Not much," Jenn admitted. "The Natural I planted there called this morning and said they were waiting to burn the place until something got there. He didn't know what it was but said it wasn't a vamp and it wasn't their dinner."

Dusty was quiet, surprised. While violent, Talon wasn't the smartest brute in the world. That he may have planned something for a reason other than to eat, fuck, or recruit was unusual.

"No word on what? Cell phone intercepts? Anything?"

"Not that I know of," she replied. "He's normally really loud and stupid about what he's doing. We don't usually have a problem tracking him, but this changed about two weeks ago. Either he got smart fast or someone tipped him off."

"I'll need whatever you can get me," he said. "I have a feeling something else is going on."

"So do I, boss," she said pensively. "Dusty, if I didn't think it was impossible, I'd say Talon's gonna make a play for the Czerno's job."

"Talon? The Black God would slaughter him on the spot."

"Something is just ... I don't know. Maybe it's just a spy's paranoia. Talon's reckless, but he's cunning and he's suddenly playing very smart. We caught some of his vamps tracking Czerno's vamps more than once, and we've caught them in firefights, too."

He said nothing about the presence of one such Black God in Miami. The Black God, Czerno, had been wreaking havoc in Europe until a few days ago. He didn't know if a two-bit thug like Talon rated the attention of the King of Darkness or if Talon was stupid enough to challenge an immortal so much more powerful. Maybe Czerno was in town for a bit of vengeance while the White God was across the ocean, or maybe he'd found out about Dusty's wards, the White God's mate and brother.

He didn't know what was going on, but he felt as uneasy as his spy chief. His gaze went to his watch.

"You sure you don't have time?" Jenn asked too casually.

"I've got a meeting at eight."

"That's enough time for me," she whispered. She leaned over the chair and kissed him, a long, slow kiss.

Dusty rose in response, peeling off his shirt. Her eyes went to his body hungrily, and he gripped her belt, pulling her against him. He took them to his condo on the beach for privacy. He rarely turned down the offer of no-strings-attached sex, especially when his partner was so good at it. In all his years, he hadn't found anything as soothing to his nerves as a woman's silky skin, heady scent, and warm body.

Chapter Three.

Bianca's new world was tiny and white, the porcelain toilet the only chair and the tub the only place long enough for her to lie down. She huddled at one end of the tub, feeling as if she'd taken a shitload of drugs. She couldn't focus on anything farther away than her hand, and looking at her hand made her cry.

She was covered in blood. Her blood. Every hour, he came back and hurt her. She traced the channel of a newly healed scar along the inside of her forearm, where he'd split her arm almost in two in a fit of rage after she kicked him in the crotch.

She hadn't fought him since. While she could heal, she still felt pain. That level of agony was something she never wanted to go through again. What she couldn't heal was the exhaustion that came with each bout of healing. She was hungry and fatigued but too scared to sleep.

Light glowed through the hazy window overhead. It was her second morning in the tub. She wondered how many more there would be and doubted she'd last more than another day or two if he kept draining her blood. Her head sagged against the shower wall, and she wished she could order her body not to heal her, to let her bleed out and die so she didn't suffer anymore.

The door opened, and she braced herself. Talon entered, followed by another man. Talon hauled her to her feet, holding her up by one arm when she wobbled. He took her other with a rough hand and nodded in approval at the healed scars.

"Impressive," the man behind him said. "I didn't think you had an ounce of sense, Talon."

Talon responded by raising her arm to his mouth. He gave a cunning smile as she tensed. She whimpered at the sensation of knives going through her arm and almost fainted.

"Taste," Talon said, handing her arm to the silver-haired man beside him.

The blurry man lifted her other arm and bit into it. She sagged. Talon let her drop. Blood trickled down both arms before her wounds healed themselves.

"Very impressive," the stranger said, kneeling beside her to look at both of her arms. "You taste like honey, love."

She shivered, sensing something truly evil in his monotonous voice and cold hands. She didn't look at him, afraid of finding the devil himself in front of her.

"Your brother's ... special as well," the man said. "He'll make a good warrior, one I can train to kill a couple pain in the asses I can't get rid of otherwise."

She looked up, fear and anger flashing through her. The man was in his prime with silver hair and dark eyes, a handsome face, and a body as muscular as Talon's.

"Stay away from my brother," she rasped.

"Ah, you do have spunk," he whispered, eyes glowing. "I'll stay away from him if you do what I say. Exactly what I say. You understand me?"

Her eyes watered, and she ducked her head. His tone made her want to crawl back into the tub and remain Talon's slave forever. There were worse fates than being dinner for a sadistic bastard like Talon, and she'd just met the man who was willing to show her what they were.

"Take her to the stash house on Broad," he said, rising. "I have a meeting out of town. I'll come get her when I'm back."

"Yes, master," Talon said with a smooth bow. "Pop, you promised-"

"Don't call me that, shithead! And yes, I'll make you a demigod, not because you deserve it, but because you did something useful for the first time in your life!"

The devil left, and an angry Talon hauled her up, sinking his teeth into her arm again. He drained her life until she was near blackness before he flung his head back with a contented sigh. He jerked her forward. She careened into the door frame, a flash of pain going through her head.

He dragged her into another room. Someone else grabbed her and flung her over his shoulder. She hung, helpless and exhausted, stuck in the in-between place until the pain of her head hitting something hard jarred her into consciousness.

She was in a car with one of Talon's men, her crumpled body at an awkward angle jammed in the small area between the backseat and the driver's seat. The floor smelled of mold. She tested her body, dismayed when her limbs felt too heavy to lift.

Her thoughts went to Jonny, and she closed her eyes as tears formed. She'd do anything for him, even if the devil took her soul! And yet, she couldn't forget what she'd seen him doing-drinking another woman's blood as Talon did hers! What happened to her brother? Was this part of some phase or were these ... people ... really vampires as Kyle believed?

The idea that Jonny would turn out to be like Talon made her chest clench. She'd never let her kid brother end up like that sadistic bastard.

More tears came as she realized she couldn't do anything for herself let alone Jonny if they kept her in such a state. She strained against her own body again, panic floating through her at her helplessness.

Before she could ponder too long on her weakness, she was yanked out of the car by Talon's lackey. The thick Miami heat had never felt so good! The cool energy her body produced when she healed streamed through her, rousing her as it repaired the latest damage. By the time they entered the building, her arms and legs were responsive again.

The lackey tossed her onto a hard couch in the rear of the house opposite a closed patio door. She pushed herself up when Talon snatched her.

"Keep her drained and weak," he ordered the lackey.

Pain shot through her as Talon bit into one arm. The lackey bit into her other arm, and she cried. Blackness crept into her vision. Talon shoved her back onto the couch.

"Put her in the garage," Talon said.

The lackey picked her up and carted her to the garage, which served as a makeshift barracks filled with cots and sleeping men. He flung her to the ground near the far wall. She landed on a topless bottle of oil and spit the fluid out as it sprayed across her face. She squeezed her eyes closed, unable to move once again.

She felt the poison in Talon's blood, but whatever poison ran in the devil's body was inseparable from him. She couldn't cure whatever it was, and she couldn't make sense of it. There wasn't something wrong with him; he was wrong!

Just like this place, filled with people who hurt her.

Just like being with Aaron.

The thought distracted her, and she both yearned to be with him and hated herself for not being able to shake the thought of him. Still, a life of betrayal with Aaron was nothing compared to a life as Talon's slave! He really wasn't so bad, when compared to here. Maybe, if she made it out of here, she'd go to lunch Sunday and do whatever felt right, like spend her life with him.

Or tell him to go to hell and never come back to Miami. She groaned. Was he really worth her attention on what may be the last day of her life?

The ground rumbled suddenly and the garage walls shook. Silence fell, and the scent of blood and fire wafted into the garage. The men around her were roused by the sensations. None had time to grab the weapons under their cots before gunfire exploded through the garage door and slammed into them. Blood splattered her as someone dropped from the cot beside her to the floor.

She closed her eyes and held her breath against the smells of sulfur and blood. She couldn't run, couldn't move and she tried hard to convince herself to pass out as the garage door was wrenched open.

More gunfire deafened her in the small confines of the garage, and men screamed and fell. Tears wetted her face as men in what looked like black tactical SWAT gear entered the garage.

Police! She thought, hopes rising.

More gunfire and another smaller explosion went off somewhere else in the house. Two men in black darted through the bodies and into the house while two more hung back at the garage entrance. The sounds of violence stopped. The eerie quiet that followed amplified the ringing of her ears. She struggled to move again, to draw their attention so they'd help her.

"All clear!" one called.

She was silently thanking the heavens for rescuing her, until one of the men in black entered the garage and began shooting the downed men a second time around. Disbelief surged through her, and she clenched her eyes closed, praying they thought her dead enough not to shoot her as they did the others. She heard the gunshots getting closer, one body at a time.

There was silence, and she waited. She peered through her eyelashes at two armed men stopped in front of her. The one who had been shooting the others was as large as Talon and plainly Hispanic.

As handsome as he was, her eyes were compelled to the man beside him. His features were chiseled from golden granite, his blue eyes clearer than the Miami shallows. He reminded her of an ancient Greek god, his cold, hard beauty magnified by his sun-kissed skin and dark blond hair. The air around him hummed with energy and command. His hands were clasped behind his back, his muscular chest and flat abs drawing her gaze. He was dressed in black but not in SWAT gear, as if he knew nothing in this world could hurt him.

The Greek prince withdrew the gun at the small of his back, whipping it towards her. Her eyes snapped closed, her last vision that of the most striking man she'd ever seen.

She waited for the end to come. It was the longest second of her life, until she realized he wasn't going to pull the trigger. Her eyes cracked open, and she was startled to see a petite blonde woman in dark jeans standing between them.

The Greek god was cold and intense, his gaze so piercing it made her shrink back even when he wasn't looking at her. His reminded her of a cobra about to strike, though he'd pulled the gun up to his shoulder. He towered over the woman and glared down at her.

"No," the petite woman ordered, her arms crossed.

They waged a silent battle, and Bianca opened her eyes, praying with everything she was worth that the small woman-whoever she was-would win. For a long moment, she thought the Greek god would kill the blonde first and then finish her off. As if sensing the same, the blonde bowed her head in deferment without moving.

"I saw something, ikir," she said in a tone far softer and more respectful than her original. The Greek god didn't so much as blink as he stared her down. Bianca's eyes watered again. He didn't have an ounce of mercy or humanity in him!

"If I didn't love you, you'd be dead, kiri," he spoke at long last, his low, even voice terrifying Bianca.

"I know," the blonde replied.

He nodded his head towards the garage door. She obeyed the command. Bianca watched her, wanting to scream at her to stay. The blonde slid sunglasses in place, and as she strode to the awaiting Yukon idling in the driveway she threw a glance over her shoulder. Her beauty was cool and classic, like that of the man before her.

"Take him, clean him up," the Greek god ordered one of the men at the front of the garage. He indicated her with the gun before turning away without another look.

Relief and fear unleashed within her, and she was hauled once again to her feet.

"Sofia," Dusty said in a tone he knew conveyed his displeasure. He slammed the Yukon's door closed as he slid into the back seat beside her and pinned her with a look she refused to meet.

"I know," she murmured.

"Pierre, if you let her do that again, you'll go straight to behavior modification," he warned her assigned bodyguard.

"I swear I'll stop her even if it costs me my life," Pierre replied.

"Dammit, Pierre!" Sofia snapped.

"Sorry, mon amour, but I fear him more."

Dusty looked at his adopted sister again. She was the ikira, the Guardians' queen, and a Seer, the mate of the White God, Damian. While the White God was off fighting the vamp infestation in Europe, he'd left his mate and brother in Dusty's protection. With their similar looks and cool reserve, he and Sofia were often mistaken for brother and sister by other Guardians, a convenient cover they exploited when she moved to Miami.

"You've done many foolish things, kiri, but stepping between me and a vamp is a first."

"I told you. I saw something," she insisted. "I am an Oracle, Dusty."

"What did you see?"

"Don't look at me like that!" she growled. "I'm sorry, Dusty, but I had to do it and I can't tell you why. You'll understand someday! In fact, you'll thank me!"

He sensed she wasn't going to budge this time and relented. She'd been pissy for a couple of weeks, and he had an idea why.

"How far along is she, Pierre?" he asked.

"Dusty!" she exclaimed. "Don't you dare, Pierre!"

The brooding blond bodyguard-Guardian driving the Yukon looked at him in the rearview mirror, torn.

"You've got five seconds," Dusty said, unruffled. "Five-"

"Nine weeks," Pierre grated.

"You're so fired!" Sofia whispered with a sigh. "Dusty, you're not supposed to know. No one is yet."

"She's saving it for when she gets in trouble again with ikir," Pierre supplied. "Sort of like a get out of jail free card."

"I am not!"

Dusty chuckled, glad for the distraction from his dark thoughts. Sofia pushed up her shades to display blue eyes rimmed with silver. His humor dissipated at the sight of the black circles under her two-toned eyes. Her mind was open to him, and he watched the thoughts passing through.

The visions in her head were dark and brutal, the memories of a man enslaved by the sadistic Black God for thousands of years. As the only Oracle and soul reader in existence, she was the only one who could repair the mind of her mate's brother, the Grey God, who suffered a fate worse than death as a slave to Czerno. While she never complained, it was clear she needed Damian to visit again soon and heal the damage his brother did to her on a daily basis.

"Sofi, you're not going to be able to handle helping Darian and being pregnant," he said.