Too late.

Cain jerked open the door and disappeared into the night.

The coppery scent of blood filled his nostrils. It was a smell he’d become intimately familiar with over the years, and one that had the beast inside yanking against his leash.

Cain launched off the porch steps, feeling the beast rage inside his body. That blood wasn’t a human’s. It had a slightly stale scent. Cloying.

Vampire.

He knew who his enemy was, and he knew he couldn’t go against the bastard in human form.

Running low to the ground, he headed for the cover of the nearby woods. Then he let the beast free.

The power of the change swept through him, the burn sending him falling onto all fours.

Bones snapped. Twisted. Fur burst through his skin. His vision sharpened. His mouth burned as his teeth lengthened. Hands became paws. Fingernails razor-sharp claws.

The man disappeared in a frenzy of teeth and growls, and the black beast took his place, tail snapping in the air, paws digging into the dirt.

Cain had a moment to hope that Miranda heeded his order and stayed inside the house. He didn’t want her out in the open, not with the vampire around. And he didn’t want her to see him in his animal form. Not yet.

He’d reached paradise with her moments before, and he wasn’t ready to give that up because she had to face the reality of his existence.

His hind legs pushed back against the ground, and he sprang forward, following that heavy scent deeper into the woods. He bounded easily over the earth, strength pulsing through him. Every smell was ten times stronger and every sound from the woods was heightened. He could hear the croak of the frogs. The whistle of leaves. The soft crunch of the earth beneath Agent Santiago’s feet.

Cain jumped, caught the lower limbs of a tree, and climbed up easily, his thick claws digging into the wood. He could see the agent from his perch. His gun was up, aimed at the darkness beyond.

The agent’s heart was racing too fast, the telling thud reached his ears, and Cain could smell Santiago’s sweat.

The agent was hunting. Just as he was.

He eased farther along the limb. Jumped agilely to the next tree. His tail thumped against the branch.

A swift pounding had his head jerking to the left. Footsteps. Fleeing. His nostrils widened, drawing in all the scents of the woods. The blood path was that way.

The vampire was on the run.

Santiago had succeeded in wounding him, but at the rate he was going, he’d never be able to bring the guy down.

Even a wounded vampire was a damn fast vampire.

And a very, very dangerous prey to stalk.

Time to take over.

He leapt from the tree, landing lightly on his feet. He’d worked with Santiago more than a few times in the past, and the other man knew his secret. A select few in the Bureau did, and those men had sworn to carrythe truth of his nature to the grave.

They’d used him on cases. Ruthlessly. Sometimes it took the devil to bring down the killers. Especially when those killers couldn’t be stopped by normal means.

But they’d given their word to keep the truth of his nature quiet, and they all knew if they betrayed him, well, they’d have to face the beast.

He advanced quickly on Santiago, covering the ground easily. The guy had never been too fast on the trigger in the past, but Cain didn’t want to take any chances. He growled low, then let out the series of grunts he knew the human would recognize.

Santiago had whirled at the first growl, but Cain saw his shoulders relax the faintest bit. Then the agent nodded and lowered his weapon.

Cain sprang past him, the thrill of the hunt making him salivate at the prospect of catching the vamp’s throat between his teeth.

The ground disappeared beneath his feet in a blur. The blood tickled his nose, the scent growing stronger, and his whiskers twitched.

The land here wasn’t suited to man. The thick brush of the woods would soon give way to the swamp and marsh. The vampire would have a hell of a time finding his way out of the swamp, even with his enhanced vision and smell.

There was a shift in the wind then. The faintest of moves in the distance that had Cain freezing in mid-crouch.

The vampire was turning. Cain waited a moment, understanding. The bastard was circling back, probably realizing his mistake in fleeing toward the swamp.

Oh, but he would catch him. Cain knew his black fur was perfectly camouflaged by the night. His movements were so careful that the vampire wouldn’t be able to hear him until it was too late.

Such was the fate of all his prey.

The vampire would regret coming back for another attack.

He crept forward, head low, back arching. There. To the left, in that thicket, he knew the bastard was waiting.

His muscles tensed. There was damn good reason the Indians had once given his kind a name that meant “the killer that takes its prey in a single bound.” Most never even had the chance to scream before he took them down.

Cain launched forward, claws out, jaw open.

And found the vampire waiting with a gun.

Dammit. Apparently, the bastard was smarter than most of his brethren. And prepared for him.

The vamp fired just as Cain jerked away. The bullet blasted across his side, leaving a trail of fire burning into his flesh.

Not silver, thank God. Though the myths said silver only worked on the wolves, the true fact was that silver could poison most shifters.

A fact the vampire bastard apparently didn’t know.

Cain bounded across the bushes, hurrying for cover. The blazing pain combined with his rage, and a snarl burst from his mouth before he could control it.