Book 1 - Page 36 (1/2)

She closed her eyes, waiting for the explosion. “After we’ve had a good rest, my cousin will come for you and take you to California for safekeeping.”

She clenched her teeth against speaking her mind and saying something hurtful. She reminded herself they both were exhausted, and she kept her lips sealed.

One thing he’d learn about her, he might be the alpha male, or at least was attempting to take on that role, but she was a lone wolf... a rogue, and had been for years. She played by her own rules, and until now — well, until she got thrown in the zoo — she’d done well enough on her own.

“Bella?” He waited for her agreement, but she couldn’t give it.

“Sleep, Devlyn. I’m exhausted.”

He continued to stroke her hair and back. “I’m calling my cousin when it’s light out. I want you to stay with him while I take care of the reds.”

No way was he going to tell her what to do. Yet, from his definitive tone, he expected to do just that, and she’d obey.

She glanced at her alarm clock. Dawn would break in another three hours or so. He thought she’d go along with him, just like that.

Wait until she woke up later. Once she had some sleep... she’d...

She yawned. She’d do something about it.

When Devlyn began to snore, she lay awake for another half hour, aggravated that she couldn’t quiet her mind and sleep. Finally, she slipped out of his arms and left the room.

In her office, she turned on the computer and checked her email. Argos was asking for an update. She clicked on his message but hesitated to answer. She wanted to ask his advice, but she couldn’t. Despite being like a father to her, he had been a pack leader. He was sure to think she’d done the wrong thing in killing Volan the way she had.

Not bothering to send a reply, she checked the rest of her email. Alfred, Nicol, and Ross had all sent her messages.

She ignored them and stared at the subject of the last one.

Wicked Bella.

Her heart raced. The reds knew her real name now. Was it the murdering red who had learned her name from the others? The sender used her own email address, so no clue there. The other reds always used their real names so she’d know it was them.

She poised her finger on the mouse, took a deep breath, and clicked. The message opened up and the breath caught in her throat.

I’m invincible, don’t you know, sweet Bella? Invincible. Volan

A photo finished loading, a picture of the devil wolf himself, his unkempt black hair straddling his shoulders, his eyes and lips smiling without humor, his skin pale, not ruddy like it had been when she first spied him at the club.

How... how could he have survived?

“Bella?” Devlyn called out from the bedroom.

She turned off the computer, her heart racing. When had Volan sent the email? Before or after she killed him? How could he be alive? No, no, he wasn’t alive. He’d sent the email to her before she met him at the club, angered that Devlyn wasn’t bringing her home to him right away. That’s why he called her wicked Bella. But the invincible part threw her.

Invincible because he could survive silver bullets?

“Bella!”

“Coming.” She strode back to the bedroom, her skin p.r.i.c.kling with fear.

Volan couldn’t be alive. According to the legend, silver bullets that penetrated the brain or heart or were left elsewhere in the body and not removed right away could cause death. But what if the legend were just that — a made-up legend and not really true? Think, think — had she ever known of a case where a silver bullet killed a lupus garou?

No, death because of fire, a cousin broke his neck when he was in his human form and jumped into a shallow river bed, but no one she actually knew had ever been killed by a silver bullet.

Reluctantly, she climbed back into bed, and Devlyn wrapped his arms around her, tightening his grip. His touch should have warmed her, but she was chilled to the center of her being. She was so stiff, Devlyn whispered into her ear, “Sleep, Bella honey.”

But she couldn’t. She tried to relax, tried to let Devlyn think everything was all right. But her mind wouldn’t shut down.

Volan had to be dead. Otherwise, she’d made love to Devlyn thinking Volan was dead. She’d given herself freely to the man she’d wanted forever, only to get him killed. She didn’t have to worry about Devlyn being arrested for Volan’s murder, but now she fretted over her original fear — Volan was indomitable, as she’d always known, and he would terminate Devlyn.

Unless, Volan was really dead. He had to be.

She thought back to the dance club and the events that led up to her killing him and afterward. He went down like a felled redwood. And he didn’t move again. For several minutes, he didn’t move. But she hadn’t checked his pulse, either. Did he have a pulse? She groaned inwardly.

But... but what if he’d been wearing a bulletproof vest?