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the reception area. She grabbed the desk phone and punched one of the speed-dial numbers.
    ―This is not happening. This is not happening,‖
    she whispered under her breath, repeating the mantra as if she could make it all go away if she hoped for it hard enough.
    The call began to ring on the other end.
    Come on, come on, answer.
    ―Put the phone down, female.‖
    Tess whirled around, shaking with fear. Her attacker moved slowly, with the deliberate grace of a skilled predator. He came closer. Bared his teeth in a harsh smile.
    ―Please. Put it down. Now.‖
    Tess shook her head. ―Go to hell!‖
    The receiver flew out of her grasp of its own free will. As it clattered onto the desk beside her, Tess heard Ben‘s voice come on the line. ―Tess? Hello... that you, babe? Jesus, it‘s after three o‘clock in the morning. What are you still doing at the—‖
    There was a loud snap behind her, like the telephone wire had been yanked from the wall jack by invisible hands. Tess jumped at the noise, fear coiling in her stomach in the silence that followed.
    ―We have a serious problem. Tess. ‖
    Oh, God.
    Now he was pissed off, and he knew her name. In the back of her mind, Tess registered the fact that aside from her attacker‘s impossible state of consciousness, he had also experienced a miraculous recovery of his injuries. Beneath the grime and smudged ash that marred his skin, all of his sundry scrapes and lacerations were healed. His black fatigues were still torn and bloodstained from the wound in his leg, but he wasn‘t bleeding anymore. Not from the likely gunshot wound in his abdomen either. Through the shredded fabric of his black shirt, Tess saw only smooth, bunching muscle and flawless olive skin.
    Was this whole thing some kind of sick Halloween joke?
    She didn‘t think so, and she knew better than to let her guard down with this guy for so much as a second.
    ―My boyfriend knows I‘m here. He‘s probably already on his way. He might even have called the cops—‖
    ―You have a mark on your hand.‖
    ―W-what?‖
    His voice had sounded accusatory, and now he pointed to her, indicating her right hand, which was trembling up near her throat.
    ―You‘re a Breedmate. As of tonight, you are mine.‖
    His lip curled at the corner as he said it, like he found the words not at all to his taste. Tess didn‘t particularly like the sound of them either. She backed up several paces, feeling the blood rush out of her head as he tracked her every move.
    ―Look, I don‘t know what‘s going on here. I don‘t know what happened to you tonight, or how you ended up in my clinic. I sure don‘t know how it is that you could be standing in front of me right now, after I gave you enough tranq to knock ten men cold—‖
    ―I am not a man, Tess. I am something... else.‖
    She might have scoffed at that if he hadn‘t sounded so deadly serious. So deadly calm.
    He was crazy.
    Right. Of course he was.
    Off the chain, raving lunatic, psycho crazy. That was the only explanation she could come up with, staring in wide-eyed dread as he closed the space between them, the sheer power and size of him forcing her toward the wall at her back.
    ―You saved me, Tess. I didn‘t give you a choice, but your blood healed me.‖
    Tess shook her head. ―I didn‘t heal you. I‘m not even sure your wounds were real. Maybe you thought they were, but—‖
    ―They were real,‖ he said, a faint, rolling accent in his deep voice. ―Without your blood, they might have killed me. But in drinking from you, I‘ve done something to you. Something that I can‘t take back.‖
    “Oh, my God.” Tess felt sick, swamped with a sudden wave of nausea. ―Are you talking about HIV? Please don‘t tell me you have AIDS... ‖
    ―Those are human diseases,‖ he said
    dismissively. ―I am immune to them. And so are you, Tess.‖
    Somehow, that wacko declaration didn‘t give her a lot of hope. ―Stop using my name. Stop acting like you know