How wonderfully perfect.

When Connor fell—and he’d be falling any moment—his men would have a perfect shot at Chloe.

I’ve been waiting for you, Chloe. It’s time for your nightmares to end. I’m here.

***

Connor had just been shot! At least five—six?—times! Chloe heard herself screaming, and she couldn’t stop. She couldn’t—

“Didn’t I say…to run?” Connor gritted out.

He was still on his feet. And he was…shooting. Aiming that gun and shooting in the dark. He’d sheathed the knife in some kind of strap at his hip and he grabbed for her left hand. Then they were running, but Connor kept his body in front of hers, a giant shield to protect her.

More thunder. More bullets.

She bit her lip to hold back her screams. She could smell silver in the air. Those bullets were laced with silver—that should be a death sentence for a werewolf, especially considering the number of times that Connor had been hit.

The motorcycle was just steps ahead. They were so close, but how was Connor supposed to drive that thing? He was bleeding, had to be close to collapsing.

More bullets thundered.

Connor grabbed her, pulled Chloe close, and covered her with his body as the bullets slammed into him.

***

“He’s not going down,” he barely breathed the words. “That sonofabitch isn’t going down.” And that was impossible! Connor had been hit with enough silver to take out five alphas for shit’s sake!

The guy was moving again, pulling Chloe with him toward that motorcycle. In a few moments, they’d be on that bike, and they would race away through the forest. Chloe would escape again.

Connor, what have you done to yourself?

But he knew. He knew too well. And the battle would be harder than he’d anticipated.

“Switch to the tranqs!” He barked into the phone. He knew his orders would be relayed to the pack. “If silver won’t kill him, then maybe the drugs can knock them both out.” Then they’d cut off Connor’s head while he lay unconscious. “Fire, fire now! Do not let them get to that motorcycle.”

“Should the men move in?”

Move in…close enough for Chloe’s scent to tempt them? That was a risk. A huge one. But once the drugs hit her, her tempting scent would vanish. He knew the trigger for her tempting scent, just as he knew so many of her secrets. “Go in, but fire the tranqs every step of the way. Chloe Quick does not leave, do you understand? If she gets away, then f**king death will come. Death.”

***

The motorcycle was right there! So close. Chloe saw Connor reach for the handlebars and—

Bullets hit him.

Connor jerked back, as he’d done before when he’d been hit. She grabbed for his arm.

Another bullet came at him and sank into his shoulder. Chloe could hear the frantic pounding of footsteps, racing toward them. Their attackers were coming out of the shadows.

Connor pulled her close. “Damn…drugs…” His voice was slurred and he seemed to slump against her. “Get on…cycle…get away.”

More gunshots. He was hit again and his hold on her slipped.

“Get…away…”

Her right hand was still curled around the gun he’d given her. Connor had told her to fire if she saw other werewolves attacking. The men coming at her—they were still men. But she could see the glow of their eyes. Could hear their growls.

They were lifting their guns.

I’m sorry! Chloe fired. Once. Twice.

Two grunts filled the air and the men fell.

But others kept coming.

She fired again, and Chloe kept firing until the gun just clicked.

Moans and howls filled the air.

She dropped the gun and grabbed for Connor. “Come on! Connor, come on!” But he was a dead weight. No, no, this couldn’t be happening! His eyes were closed and he looked as if he were sleeping.

Not dying, not dying… “Wake up!” Chloe yelled at him. They were at the motorcycle. They just had to get on and get out of there. “Please, Connor, please!” Because she couldn’t just leave him. Whoever those men—werewolves—were, they’d already loaded him down with silver. Their intent was obviously to kill him and to—

A bullet sank into her shoulder. She looked down, oddly stunned because there was no pain. The wound just felt…cold. A deep, creeping coldness that slowly spread through her body. That coldness was weighing her down. Making Chloe want to just sag on the ground right next to Connor and sleep.

Sleep wouldn’t hurt, right? There was nothing wrong with a little sleep.

“Got her!” Chloe heard someone yell.

When I sleep, the nightmares come. Fire. Screams.

Connor still had his gun. And maybe it has bullets! She fumbled and managed to grab it. Her fingers just didn’t want to work properly, though, and she almost dropped the new gun. But she managed to raise it and—

A man with glowing eyes was right in front of her.

“You smell good enough to f**king eat,” he said.

He had a gun in his hand.

Too bad for him, she did, too.

She fired. The silver bullet sank into his stomach and he stumbled back, yelling.

“Connor, get up!” She grabbed his shirt collar with her hand and hefted the guy toward the bike. She’d barely taken two stumbling steps when the shirt fabric ripped. Connor sagged against the ground. “No! Don’t do this! I need you!”

She reached down for him again.

His hand flew up and his fingers locked around her wrist. His grip was steely, far harder than it had ever been before. Almost…painful.

“Connor?”

He pulled her wrist toward his mouth. His breath blew over her inner wrist as his lips parted.

“Connor, what are you—”

He bit her. She felt two fangs pierce her wrist, sinking into her veins, and she sucked in a breath to cry out. No, werewolves don’t do this! Not werewolves…

He was drinking her blood.

Just like a…like a vampire.

She lifted her gun. Aimed it at him. “Stop.” Her fingers were shaking. She didn’t understand—he couldn’t be a werewolf and a vampire. That just wasn’t possible.

Was it?

“Pl-please, Connor. Stop!”

He pressed a kiss to her wrist. “Sorry…”

Then, in a flash, he’d taken the gun from her hand and leapt to his feet. Before she could even suck in another breath, he’d turned and fired that gun, shooting with perfect accuracy. When he hit his targets, she heard their pain-filled cries.

Her legs started to give way. That sinking cold had consumed her. The only place she felt warm—it was her wrist. The wrist he’d bitten. Before she hit the ground, Connor caught her in his arms. “I’ve got you,” he told her. “It’s okay now.”

No, there was nothing about this scene that was okay.

He put her on the motorcycle. If he hadn’t jumped on right behind her and wrapped his body around hers, she would have fallen off. But he was holding her too tightly, and there was no place for her to go.

“You’re safe,” he said.

She didn’t feel safe.

The motorcycle’s engine growled to life and the bike sprang forward. Connor wasn’t heading toward the road. He was heading toward the thick line of trees to the right. Toward the forest.

She heard the howl of wolves. The snap of bones. Their attackers—those who still could, anyway—were shifting. Giving chase as beasts.

She should try to stop them. Were there more bullets in Connor’s gun?

“Are you still with me?” Connor’s voice sounded so strong.

She tried to speak, but her tongue felt thick in her mouth.

They were in the trees now. Branches hit her in the face, but she didn’t even feel them. She couldn’t seem to feel anything.

“Chloe?”

I’m with you. But…the words just wouldn’t come and she couldn’t keep her eyes open any longer. Inside, she was screaming. Begging for help.

Because she knew the fire waited in her dreams.

***

He drove deep into the woods, fast and far, and soon, he didn’t hear the sound of the pursuing wolves any longer. But Connor didn’t stop. He knew this area. Learning it had been part of his assignment. In case Chloe had ever been located by her enemies, he’d needed a plan to escape with her.

Only I almost didn’t escape. Without her blood, I’d still be lying on the ground.

He cut hard to the left and zipped out of the trees. Chloe’s head lolled back. She was out—they’d hit her with the tranqs and that pissed him off. He didn’t know what those werewolves wanted from her, but whatever it was, they weren’t going to get her.

Time for Plan B.

Eric had warned him that if things got out of hand, he would need to bring Chloe back in to one of the Para Unit’s secret facilities. And if Chloe had thought she was in a prison before, well, that would be nothing compared to what was coming. But there wasn’t a choice.

He hit the narrow dirt road up ahead. The motorcycle drove faster, faster…

She was so soft against him. He hated that he’d taken her blood. Even more, Connor hated that he’d liked that blood. Liked her taste. He’d wanted to take and take and take.

But then, he’d always known that he had a true monster inside of him. After all, he was his father’s son.

Chloe had probably finally realized he wasn’t the good guy. Not even close.

He kept driving. Eventually, the dirt road met up with an old highway. The sun began to rise in the sky and the darkness was pushed away. Chloe didn’t wake up.

He drove.

His arm held her against his chest. His fangs were still out, long and aching.

He’d only taken from one other live source before—and that had been when he’d drank from a vampire. From Holly Jacobs. But he’d been in Purgatory then, and that had been a drink or die situation.

After that time, the blood had been carefully screened and prepared by Eric. He knew the dangers of taking Chloe’s blood…he should never have drank from Chloe. Never. He’d been warned, time and again from Eric. Drinking from a live source was supposed to be forbidden. A dark path that he wasn’t supposed to take.

But he’d sure as hell taken that path.

Now he wanted more. So much more.

“I’m sorry, Chloe.” It was too bad that she couldn’t hear those words. “We can’t go back.”

Would she be able to face what was coming her way?

He wanted more from Chloe. He wanted everything that she had to give.

But first, hell, first he was going to have to convince Chloe that he wasn’t a monster.

Yeah, right. Good luck with that shit.

Because he wasn’t just a werewolf, not just a vampire—he was an unholy combination of both. A creature forged from blood and death, and science. Science that probably should never have been used to build a new breed of beast.

He was a walking, talking boogeyman, and when she woke, he knew Chloe would probably run screaming…from him.

Chapter Four

“Chloe.”

Her name pushed through the fog that seemed to surround her.

“Come on, Chloe, you’re worrying me. You’ve been out way too long.” She felt fingers stroking her cheek. “Open your eyes and look at me.”

She was afraid to open her eyes. She knew that was Connor’s voice, but where they actually were—what had happened to them—she was kind of confused about all that.

“You’re safe,” he told her, his voice almost gentle. “No one here is going to hurt you.”

She cracked open one eye. Saw Connor leaning over her. His expression showed his worry. She cracked open her other eye.

He exhaled. “Good. I was starting to think they’d hit you with—”

Chloe shot up in the bed. It was an old bed, narrow, sagging, and Connor was right beside her. A blood-covered Connor was beside her. Her hands flew over his shirt. “You’re hit! The silver—oh, Connor, you’re—” Well, warm. Strong beneath her fingers. “You’re…okay?”

“The silver didn’t hurt me. I’ve healed.”

Her head was pounding and her wrist ached. “But you’re a werewolf.”

He stared into her eyes.

She looked down at her left wrist. Saw the faint marks there. Two small circles. It was such a good thing she was in the bed then. Otherwise, Chloe thought she might have fallen. “You drank my blood.”

There was a sudden, thick tension that seemed to cling to the air around him.

“Vampires drink blood,” Chloe said with a hard shake of her head. “Vampires, not werewolves.”

“There’s something you should know.” He rubbed his jaw. “I’m kind of a vampire.”

She looked at him, then she cast a fast and frantic glance around the room. The place was small, non-descript. A bed, a table, two chairs, no windows. But there was a door, about five feet away. If she could lunge through that door, she’d have a fighting chance of getting away from him.

“And I’m kind of a werewolf,” Connor continued in his oddly emotionless voice.

Her headache got so much worse. “You can’t be both.”

“Thanks to science….and vampire blood…I can be.”

She flew off that bed and lunged for the door, but she didn’t make it to freedom. Because Connor leapt in front of her, blocking Chloe’s path.

He lifted his hands and said, “I need you to listen.”

She needed a stake. Silver didn’t work on him, so did that mean that a wooden stake would? She didn’t know as much as she would have liked about vampires. Werewolves had always been her problem.