Prologue
It didn't take a genius to figure out Kraven was after Selene. I couldn't fault his taste, of course; the young female vampire was a walking wet dream with all that leather, and a perfect body to hug with it, and the icing on a cake was a face that could be either cute or beautiful and, when she was at her most lethal, she could be both at the same time. I knew this, even though she had never -- according to what I knew -- willingly used her charm on me. In spite of that little fact (a pity!), she had left me breathless countless times, breathless and yearning. And just as many times I had woken up, sweaty and aching with need, the image of her very face painted all across my vision, almost able to feel her fingers on my body, almost but not quite because she never was there for real. I always had to use my own fingers instead, pretending it was her, but it was like feeding on synthetic plasma compared to feeding on fresh human blood; simply not enough.
And what was I? Certainly not her lover, and I don't think I could call myself her friend either. I was Kraven's little plaything, a pet he kept on a leash, and I know Selene despised me for that. She took everything more seriously, even to a point where she seemed unwilling to enjoy life at all. She seemed to be frowning almost constantly, on guard constantly, matter-of-fact constantly; smile, it was a rare quest on those angelic features. I would have loved to make her smile. What would it take to make her smile? Getting close to her, comforting her, letting her pour her heart out and then cry, cry it all out? I knew she had a heavy burden to carry, even though I knew no details about her past, about her life before Viktor made her a vampire -- grief just was written all over her face, she couldn't really hide it behind that cold and effective mask of a Death Dealer, not from me at least. Yes, if smile was a rare quest on her face, tears appeared even less frequently. Would smiling first require crying? If so, I would have loved to see her through it, to make sure she makes it through. Unfortunately, she knew nothing of my feelings or my hopes, and she would never in a million years let me get close. She regarded me as Kraven's puppet, and she wanted nothing to do with Kraven, excluding the absolutely necessary. And I was too afraid to make a move myself -- a wise choice, to remain silent; Lord knows what would happen if Kraven or any of the Elders found out.
*
Chapter One
"Why are you helping me?" she asked in that beautiful voice of hers.
I sighed, trying to keep my face straight.
"I'm not," I replied, forcing a smile. "I'm helping me."
She took one last look of the gun I had thrown her, then turned around and jumped out of the window. I had activated the mansion's alarm system to secure her escape. I knew she would go running to her precious Michael, a thought that was tearing my heart apart. But I had plans for Michael, knowing how much Kraven, along with all our coven, hated the Lycan that had saved Selene's life. I also knew how Kraven felt about Selene, I knew he wouldn't hurt her for running to Michael, he'd rather hunt down the man so that Selene would have no one to run to. Except Kraven himself.
I was right. After she had left, I ran straight to Kraven, to tell him Selene had escaped to go to Michael.
"I want that Lycan's head on a plate," was Kraven's simple reply.
His squad nodded in agreement, and went their way. Now poor Michael had both Lycans and us vampires on his trail -- no human would be able to avoid both for long, not even with Selene watching their back. I smiled to myself, and then proceeded to do what I was the next step in my plan. A bold move perhaps, but seeing Selene's eyes when she regarded Michael had finally broken my heart to pieces that I just had to recollect. I wanted her to look at me that way. She didn't even recognize that her feelings were more than just curiosity, she had yet no idea of the depth of her attraction to this newborn Lycan. It wouldn't be long now, though, and I would do anything to claim her heart first, before Michael would. So maybe a love between two female vampires was unthinkable; but even more so was a love between a vampire and a Lycan. By winning Selene over, I would not only save myself; I would save Selene just as well, or even more so.
It appeared I read Selene's mind all too well; she had taken Michael to exactly where I had suspected she would. And apparently Lycans had read her mind as well, for they were rampaging the building when I got at the said location. For all I cared the Lycans could just as well take Michael and have their way with him, if Kraven's squad was too slow or otherwise disabled, I only had interest in finding Selene. I saw Michael falling out of the window, and a police car -- undoubtedly with disguised Lycans inside -- picked him up while Selene was still busy upstairs, slaughtering the werewolves that were running wild at her. When the ruckus had settled a bit, all of the Lycans were either dead or at the brink of it, she glanced over her shoulder to see that Michael had disappeared from the window and the alley beneath. This was my chance.
Before Selene had time to turn away from the window, I stepped inside, through the window in front of her, grabbing her by the wrist. In less than a second her gun was pressed against my temple. I knew she had no bullets left, that was the only reason she had stopped firing at the Lycans in the first place, and she knew this too; pointing a gun at a surprising attacker was more a reflex than rational thinking or planning her next move.
"Take it easy, Selene, it's me," I said, making eye contact to assure that she heard me and understood.
She just glared at me for a second, her breath still heavy from the physical work and excitement, the adrenaline of the deceased fight still pumping in her veins. Her eyes were light blue, her pupils small, making her look like a crazy person or a drug addict -- or, an alarmed vampire. Slowly, as she lowered the gun from my face, the colour of her eyes shifted to its normal green and brown hue, revealing the eyes that I could stare into endlessly. Eyes like I had never seen on anyone else except her. Her breathing also became steadier, and after a moment of just looking at me she crudely asked, "Where's Michael?"
I willed hurt not to show on my face.
"I have no clue. I only just arrived," I lied. "So he was here? With you?"
Again, her eyes held mine for a brief, breath-taking moment, as if she were trying to decide whether or not to believe me. Then, she abruptly swung her hand free from my grasp, and continuing the same movement to forcefully slap me on the cheek. My head jerked to the side, but I was more surprised than hurt. My hand instinctively rose to my cheek as I turned back to look at her, tears of hurt and anger glistering in my eyes.
"What was that for?" I demanded, quietly, yet sternly.
