He reached out and touched her arm where it had pushed out over the blankets. The mottled bruises were an abomination. But with rest and good food she'd start to heal more quickly. She and her wolf would grow stronger and help one another.

"I'm here. I won't let anything or anyone hurt you." He lowered his head to the mattress beside her, closed his eyes and slept, secure in the knowledge he'd wake if anyone neared the room.

Darkness surrounded Chrissten. She was safe here. No one could hurt her. She floated along. Content. She didn't know where she was and didn't care. Nothing could touch her here.

She felt something brush against her arm. It wasn't much, but it made her frown. Was someone else here?

Panic threatened to overwhelm her.

She had to run. Had to get away. There were bad things out there. Someone wanted to hurt her. She fought to open her eyes but couldn't lift the heavy lids.

"I won't let anything or anyone hurt you." She heard the words, but it took her a few minutes to understand them. She took a breath and her nostrils were filled with him-soap and sandalwood and a hint of musk. She took another breath, pulling it deep into her lungs. She knew this male.

She struggled to put a face with the smell but couldn't.

No matter, she trusted him. He'd come and found her when she'd been lost. Her brother had been there too. Or at least she thought he was.

Thinking was too hard. Her memories jumbled.

She didn't hurt and she was warm and safe. That was all that mattered. He was with her and she trusted him to keep his promise.

Darkness closed around her again and she welcomed it with open arms.

The shadows concealed Damek as he waited patiently for the group to disperse. He hadn't left, as they'd assumed, but merely melded with the darkness. Waiting. He sighed with pleasure when the last light was turned out and only the security lamps remained on. He did so love the darkness.

The light tapping of fingers on a keyboard drew him down the hallway to the office where Craig sat working. The human's fatigue pulled at his fragile body, but he fought it. Damek admired Craig Lawton's sense of loyalty and family. It was a rare and valuable trait.

Craig sat back in the desk chair and grabbed a sheaf of papers he'd already printed. Damek stepped out of the shadows. For some unknown reason, he wanted to talk with the younger man. "Have you found anything?"

Craig startled and the paper he was reading jerked in his hands, dragging the sharp edge over one of his fingers. "Damn." Blood welled on the human's finger. Hunger surged to life within Damek as he stared at the crimson drop.

"I thought you'd gone." Craig's heartbeat jumped and, for the first time, Damek felt a frisson of fear from the human. It saddened him even though it was to be expected.

Damek reached into his jacket pocket and drew out a crisp, white square of linen. The human simply stared at it.

"Go on," he offered. "It's clean."

Damek read the younger man's embarrassment as he took the handkerchief and wrapped it around the tiny cut. When it was no longer visible, Damek relaxed slightly, although the sweet lure of blood still lingered in the air.

"Thanks."

Damek inclined his head. "You're very welcome. No need to worry about the blood. I'm not that kind of vampire. I only eat when invited." He didn't know why he couldn't resist the little barb. Perhaps it was because Craig had been so easily accepting of him and he felt slighted by the assumption he'd jump on him at the first sight of blood.

Of course, the human was right to fear him. He was a vampire, after all. But it still hurt him in a way he hadn't thought he could still be hurt. It was disconcerting to say the least.

Craig laughed. "Sorry about that. I'm just tired." He raked his fingers through his hair, making it stand on end. "If you need to eat or feed or whatever you call it, all you have to do is ask."

Damek was struck dumb by the offer. It was made easily and without reservations. As a vampire, he could feel all Craig's emotions and there was no coercion, no sense of fear, only pure, sincere generosity.

"I'm humbled by your offer, but I'm perfectly fine. I tend to use blood banks in these modern times." Blood was much easier to come by these days, especially since he owned a private blood bank. But it was cold and almost lifeless when he drank it and lacked the power of fresh, warm blood.

Craig removed the hanky from his finger and inspected the cut. It had already stopped bleeding. "That makes sense, but the offer is there if you ever need it."

"Why?" Damek truly wanted to know, wanted to understand why this human would give something so precious so freely.

"Because you've done everything you can to help my family and you've asked for nothing in return."

Although it should have been impossible, Damek felt his face getting warm. Damned if he'd blush like some fledgling. He was a vampire, damn it. Lord of the night. Feared by one and all.

Except, it seemed, by this particular human.

Damek inclined his head in acknowledgement. The dawn was coming. He could feel it in his bones. Time was short. "If you ever need anything from me, call the number on the card I gave you. Day or night, it is no matter."

"You can move around in the daytime?" Damek heard the curiosity in Craig's question but wasn't about to answer. His secrets were his own. Keeping them had allowed him to stay alive for hundreds and hundreds of years.

"Day or night," he reiterated. With that, he faded back into the shadows and disappeared. He left the club behind him, making sure the door was locked. As he hurried through the city streets toward his home, he could feel the dawn snapping at his heels.

Chapter Four.

Chrissten came awake suddenly, her heart racing. She'd been dreaming. Or at least she thought it was a dream. She kept her eyes closed and her breathing as even as she could, not wanting to alert whoever was in the room with her that she was awake.

And there was someone there. She could sense him.

She caught a whiff of his scent and her entire body unclenched and relaxed. It was her mystery male. Whoever he was. She had no idea about his identity. She only knew his smell made her feel safe. As if he surrounded her in an invisible net of comfort.

She shifted her head slightly on the pillow and his scent deepened. Strange. She sniffed again and realized it was coming not only from the room but also from the pillow. Was she in his bed?

It didn't matter where she was because she was free. Free from her prison. It was almost unbelievable after so long, after losing hope of rescue. She allowed the pure luxury of simply being in a soft, warm bed with clean sheets to wash over her.

But she wasn't safe. Not really. Not with Brian running around out there somewhere in the city. She shivered beneath the blankets. She wouldn't be truly free until he was dead.

A movement on the opposite side of the bed made her flinch in spite of her best efforts to remain still.

"You're okay. Everything is okay." His deep, sleep-roughened voice sank into her bones, settling into every cell of her body. The blanket was pulled higher around her. "Are you cold? I can get you another blanket." Without giving her time to answer, he moved away from the bed and went to the closet. A moment later, he returned, shook out a blanket and spread it over the pile already on top of her.

She was cold, which wasn't normal. Her metabolism was fast and her body temperature was usually slightly higher than a human's. But a chill permeated her entire being.

It was difficult to focus, but she forced herself to do so. "Who...who are you?" She licked her dry lips. She was so very thirsty. She looked around and saw a glass on the nightstand and struggled to sit up.

"I'm Hank. Hank Brewer." He helped her sit up, propping her back against the headboard, arranging the pillows until she was comfortable. When she was settled, he lifted a glass of orange juice to her lips. "Here, sip this slowly."

Grateful, she tilted her head slightly and drank. She was parched and soaked up the slightly warm liquid. Some of it spilled down her chin, but he was right there, wiping it away.

"Easy." He pulled the glass away. "Give yourself a minute. You don't want to drink too much too fast. Might make you sick."

She nodded and took a minute to really look at him. Hank. She liked his name. It was strong, like him. Up until now she'd been so focused on his scent she'd paid little attention to his appearance.

He sank down onto the bed beside her, making the mattress dip with his weight. Chrissten studied his face. His eyes were the palest blue she'd ever seen and were fringed with thick eyelashes. His brows were straight and dark in contrast to his hair. It was short and blond. Real short. Almost military short. His nose was large and straight. His lips firm and full. His chin square.

This was one tough male.

His shoulders were so wide he blocked out the rest of the room from her line of sight. His biceps swelled beneath the cotton of his long-sleeved shirt, hinting at his strength.

Her heart skipped a beat and picked up its pace. She wanted to curl her body around him, using his heat to warm her.

Which was totally nuts. She'd just met him. Hadn't she?

She licked her lips again, thankful they weren't as dry as they'd been. "You were there, weren't you?" Even as she asked, she knew the answer to her question. He'd been there.

"Yeah. I was part of the team that extracted you."

"Team?" It sounded like a military operation, but she knew it wasn't. Her brothers had both been there.

"The pack." Hank placed his hand on her upper arm. She flinched and he immediately removed it. He started to stand, but she didn't want him to leave her.

"Stay."

"You sure?" His laser gaze studied her. She knew if she asked him to leave he would. That released some of the irrational fear surrounding her. She owed him some sort of explanation.

She nodded. "It's just when you touched me..." She couldn't continue. She didn't want to remember how Brian had touched her whenever he wanted. She started rubbing her arms, frantic to remove Brian's touch. The covers fell to her waist.

She could still smell him under her skin. She'd never be free of him.

Strong hands captured hers and her eyes flew upward. Not Brian. Hank. This was Hank. Panic slowly began to recede.

"I'm sorry." God, she was a basket case.

"Don't be sorry. You have nothing to apologize for." His tone was fierce but gentle. "I just don't want you to hurt yourself. You still have a long way to go before you're fully healed."

She looked down at her arms, seeing them for the first time. Mottled bruises in various shades of blue, black, brown and purple ranged up and down her skin. Now that she was looking at them they began to throb. She pulled her hands from his and tugged the covers over her, ashamed for them to show.

Hank got up from the bed and walked to a closet. He withdrew a long-sleeved denim shirt and came back to the bed, driving home the fact she was in his room, in his bed, resting on his pillow. It felt very intimate, but not frightening.

"Here. You can wear this." He knew. He knew how much the bruises bothered her. She peered deep into his eyes and saw no pity, only understanding. Slowly, she released her death grip on the blankets and let them fall to her waist.

Chrissten raised her left arm and flinched. She was sore and stiffer than she'd thought.

"Let me." Hank didn't give her time to turn down his offer. Swiftly and with no wasted movements, he put the shirt on her. The sleeves were too long, even for her. She was a tall woman, almost six feet, and wasn't used to having clothing too big on her. He rolled up the cuffs on both sleeves several times. When he was satisfied, he sat back. "Better?"

It was better. Not only was the shirt warm, but it smelled like him too. And it covered her bruises. She nodded. "Thanks."

"My pleasure." The corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled, making him appear even more handsome.

Her line of thinking startled her. She was in no position to find any man handsome. Her life was a mess and it wasn't going to get any better for a long time, if ever.

"I'm going to kill him." There was no denying the menace in that threat, but strangely she didn't feel the least bit intimidated. She should be screaming for her brother, not wanting to snuggle with the guy.

"Who?" Deep in her heart she knew who he meant, but she wanted to hear him say it.

"Brian." The word came out more as a growl and she could barely understand him.

Shame washed over her. They all knew. Brian was her biological mate. She pulled the edges of the shirt around her, knowing the sense of safety and comfort was false but needing it anyway.

Hank touched his fingers against the edge of her jaw. "Hey. You have nothing to be ashamed of. I'm in awe of your bravery. You stayed alive. You managed to help Bethany escape." He took a deep breath, his broad chest widening to immense proportions. "God, you have no idea just how amazing you are."

Chrissten stared at Hank, taking his words in, wanting to believe them. He'd been a stranger to her only moments before. No, that wasn't quite true. She might not have seen his face before, but his scent had been imprinted on her heart and mind. She felt close to him. Closer than she'd felt to anyone outside her family.

"I should have found a way to escape. I should have-" Anger bubbled up inside her. "I should have fought him harder. Should have killed him." Shame washed over her like a tsunami. There should have been something she could have done to prevent what had happened to her.

"How?" Again, there was no sense of judgment from Hank, just a simple question. "He's a pureblooded male and you were a female in heat. Even if you did fight him, you couldn't hold out forever. He would have used his strength against you."

The memories of that first time made her flinch. "I hit him and scratched him, but he was so big. So strong." She willed Hank to understand. She couldn't bear to see pity, or worse, contempt, on his face.

Hank nodded and turned his hand so it was cupping her cheek. "There was nothing you could have done differently."

She gulped for air, feeling as though she'd run a mile at top speed. "Everything was so out of control. My body was on fire. But I didn't give in."

Her heart was racing so fast she feared she might pass out. But she had to finish this, had to make him understand. Why that was so important to her, she didn't know. All she knew was it was imperative he believe her. "But then I couldn't fight any longer and he was there, over me, inside me."

A tear trickled down her face. Hank caught it on his thumb and rubbed it into her skin. "It's not your fault. You might want to talk to Meredith about this. She's alpha female of his pack. Her first mating wasn't exactly her choice either."

She didn't want to talk about this anymore. The memories hurt worse than her physical injuries. The bruises would heal with time. Those memories would always be with her, lurking in the dark corners of her mind.

It might be cowardly, but Chrissten didn't care. She closed her eyes, but it didn't help. She could still see Brian in her mind's eye, touching her. Taking her against her will.

Something touched her bottom lip. Her eyes flew open and she stared dumbfounded at Hank as he rubbed his thumb over the plump, pink skin again. "Your lips are so soft."

"What? What are you doing?" Chrissten was yanked away from the dark past and into the present. She should pull away. She should be upset that he was touching her. Shouldn't she?

Only she wasn't. His touch was healing and she wanted more of it.

"If you want me to stop I will." He continued to slowly move the pad of his thumb back and forth. "But I'm hoping you won't ask me to."

"I don't understand." She was lightheaded and not all of it was due to her injuries and hunger.

"I don't fully understand either," Hank confessed. "All I know is I want to take away the bad memories. Replace his touch with something good. Will you let me?"

Where she'd been cold only minutes before, now she was hot. Perspiration was making her nightgown stick to her skin. "What are you asking me?" He couldn't be asking her to have sex with him. She couldn't. Not now. Maybe not ever. But oh how she was tempted. If anyone could remove the taint of Brian's touch from her skin she knew with a bone-deep certainty it was this man.

There was something about Hank that tugged at her, made her want to get closer to him.

"A kiss. Just a kiss. Nothing more." He brushed a lock of her hair away from her face. "I want to taste your lips to see if they're as sweet as they look."