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believed that something
was happening to Kellan. That some kind of…change was taking place in his life,
and even though she couldn’t explain it and didn’t really understand, she loved
her friend enough to know that this was something he’d had to do.
    “I understand how you feel, Kier, but I think there’s
something more to it than just sex or physical attraction,” she tried to
explain.
    “And does the idiot have a plan?” he asked, shaking
his head. “Or is he just going to waltz up to the Casus and ask them all
sweetly to hand her over?”
    “Kellan told me that if the opportunity presented
itself, he was going to allow Westmore’s men to capture him. He thinks they’ll
take him to the secret compound where they’re keeping Chloe, and once inside,
he plans on rescuing her.”
    Ross Westmore was yet another name on the long list of
enemies they had going at the moment, and he probably resided right at the top.
He appeared to be the mastermind behind the Casus’s return, though they still
didn’t understand his motivations. For a time they hadn’t even been sure of the
guy’s species, either, but then they’d discovered that he was a Kraven, the
offspring of a female Deschanel vampire who had been raped by one of the Casus
monsters before their imprisonment. Within the vampire hierarchy, the Kraven
were considered an embarrassing secret and treated little better than slaves.
It was hardly surprising, then, that Westmore had turned against the Deschanel,
convincing the Collective Generals to partner with him in exchange for the
location of several Deschanel nesting grounds. A militant organization
comprised of fanatical humans who were intent on ridding the world of all
preternatural life, the Collective Army should have wanted the Casus dead, but
their greed had gotten the better of them, and the information they’d received
from Westmore had resulted in horrific massacres.
    “And did you tell Kell that he was out of his goddamn
skull?” Kierland rasped, the warm, provocative scent of his body rising with
his anger.
    “No.” She turned to look at him, staring at his hard
profile.
    “Of course you didn’t. Because you’re such a great
friend, huh?”
    Calmly, she said, “Sarcasm isn’t going to help the
situation, Kierland. But you already know that, don’t you?”
    He growled, scrubbing the palm of his hand over the
bristled surface of his jaw again, the faint shadow of his ginger-colored beard
coming through, adding to his rugged appeal. “How did he get away from Noah in
Norway? Noah isn’t an idiot. He wouldn’t have let Kell just walk away.”
    They made a sharp turn, and Morgan had to brace
herself. “There was a fight when Kell told him that he was leaving,” she
explained, while they crossed over the Vltava River. “It got pretty rough, and
according to Noah, Kellan actually went wolf on him.”
    “Jesus,” he responded. “I’m surprised they didn’t kill
each other.”
    “Noah came back this morning pretty banged up, but I’m
sure he got in some good shots on Kell, as well.” She coughed, then carefully
said, “Actually, there’s something else you should know. They didn’t find the
Marker in Norway.”
    He cursed a string of coarse, ugly words under his
breath, his strong profile carved with grim lines of worry and frustration.
“Was there a note?”
    “Yeah. Same as before.”
    Another blast of stifled, graveled curses filled the
interior of the sleek sports car, not that Morgan blamed him. The situation was
dire, to say the least. In the past few weeks, members of Kierland’s Watchmen
unit had gone out to retrieve three Markers…and had only come back with one.
After Noah and Kellan had found one of the ancient crosses in Finland, Saige
Buchanan had quickly named Spain as the next location, and Noah had gone with
Michael Quinn, another Watchman and Saige’s fiancé, to retrieve it. But when
they’d found the cross’s hiding place, a note had been left waiting