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Title Page

Book Description

Scanguards Family Tree

About the Author

Luther’s Return

Scanguards Vampires #10

Tina Folsom

Book Description

After twenty years incarcerated in a vampire prison, Luther is finally free. But before he can close this chapter of his life once and for all, a kidnapping thrusts him back into the world of Scanguards and into a confrontation with the vampires whose mates he very nearly killed two decades earlier.

Actress Kimberly “Katie” Fairfax has turned her back on Hollywood and now teaches drama at a college in San Francisco. When Scanguards owner Samson’s daughter disappears during a performance, Katie blames herself for inadvertently putting Isabelle in the path of danger. Realizing that Luther may be the only one who can rescue Samson’s daughter, she forges a tenuous alliance with the inscrutable stranger. As passion ignites between them, they not only have to fight against the unknown foe, but also against the darkness within themselves that could destroy them before they can rescue Isabelle.

ALSO BY TINA

Scanguards Vampires

Phoenix Code Series with Lara Adrian

Out of Olympus

Venice Vampyr

Eternal Bachelors Club

Stealth Guardians

Scanguards Family Tree

Since nineteen years have passed in the world of Scanguards (after Cain’s book), here’s a refresher of who’s who, as well as an introduction to the second generation of Scanguards.

For a larger version of this tree, please visit my website.

Scanguards is a registered trademark.

The eight-by-eight windowless cell had been his home for twenty years.

Luther West didn’t look back as he walked—ahead of Dobbs, the Kevlar-clad vampire guard—toward the end of the long corridor lined with similar cells. Cells that held other vampires; criminals just like him. Bright light illuminated the corridors in the massive concrete maze located somewhere in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada.

Luther glanced up at the fluorescent tubes above his head. To a visitor they would look ordinary, but Luther knew better. From a control room, the flick of a switch activated the UV tubes located inside the casings. Any vampire caught in the corridor once the UV lights were switched on would slowly, but surely, incinerate.

A painful death. And an effective deterrent for anyone trying to escape.

Apart from that nifty gadget, a vampire prison wasn’t much different from a human prison. The idea was the same: punish the perpetrators and keep them away from decent people so they couldn’t harm anybody else.

Well, it had worked.

The UV ray guns the guards carried to keep the prisoners in line fulfilled their purpose. Though painful when applied, they ordinarily left no permanent marks on a vampire. The consumption of human blood and an uninterrupted sleep cycle assured that a vampire’s skin healed without scarring. However, some of the guards had been crueler than others. And those prisoners who had a hard time submitting to authority and accepting their fate found out the hard way that even a vampire’s body could scar.

Luther had been one of them.

To teach him who was boss they’d lowered his already meager rations of human blood to a near-starvation level and interrupted his sleep cycle every thirty minutes so his vampire body couldn’t heal. One week of such treatment, and scar tissue grew over the burns caused by the UV rays, making the disfigurement permanent.

Luther’s back and chest bore witness to his early years of defiance. He’d learned his lesson. He subsequently became a model prisoner and kept his true feelings to himself, biding his time. But he’d made enemies early on, and some people held a grudge longer than others.

“Release day?” The voice came from an open cell. He recognized it as that of Summerland, another guard, one who never missed an occasion to show Luther who was in charge.

Luther turned his head instinctively, though he knew the question wasn’t meant for him. Behind him, Dobbs stopped, and Luther did the same, anticipating the order to wait.

“West’s time is up.” Dobbs jerked his thumb at him then looked back at the guard inside the cell. “What you doin’? Thought that V-CON was released last week.”

V-CONs—it was what the guards called the prisoners: Vampire Convicts.

Luther glanced past Dobbs at Summerland who motioned his blond head toward the interior walls. “Yeah, he was. But he didn’t take all his junk with him.”

Summerland continued to rip posters from the walls. Movie posters, pictures of beautiful women, actresses most likely. Movie stars. Or maybe singers. One of the women looked vaguely familiar. He’d probably seen her on the screen. A blonde with a rack like Raquel Welsh and eyes like a wild cat. Green like emeralds. The vampire who’d previously occupied this cell clearly had good taste in women. Not so good taste in movies though, if the posters were anything to go by.

Access to movies and television shows was one of the privileges for good behavior. The ex-prisoner must have exhibited model behavior, since he’d even been allowed pictures from the outside. Or he’d bribed a guard.

After all, the prisoners were vampires, and many of them had already lived a long life and accumulated fortunes with which to buy certain services. Luther knew of prostitutes being smuggled into the prison by the guards in exchange for large sums of money. Being a guard at one of the few vampire penitentiaries was a coveted position. It was rumored that many guards had retired as rich men.

Though Luther could have paid for hookers, he never asked for such favors. A woman was the reason why he’d spent twenty years in this hellhole. Women were trouble with a capital T. He would make damn sure to stay away from them. Another lesson he’d learned: never trust a woman’s feelings. No matter how much she tells you she loves you. Not even if she carries your child.

With a grunt, Luther pushed back the rising memories and the anger that welled up with them.

“Done chatting?”

“Watch that mouth of yours, West,” Dobbs admonished. “You’ll get out of here soon enough. When I’m ready. Even if some people don’t like that fact. Right, Summerland?”

Summerland narrowed his eyes and shot a venomous look at Luther. “Oh, he’ll be back one day.”

Luther pulled one side of his lip up in a show of derision. “Don’t count on it.” Without waiting for Dobbs’s command, he pivoted and continued walking in the direction they’d been heading.

He heard the guard’s footsteps behind him, but they were suddenly obscured by a noise up ahead. Angry shouts and grunts echoed down the corridor. The moment Luther turned a corner, he saw the reason for the commotion.

A massive, clearly pissed-off prisoner was fighting tooth and nail against his two guards. The guards, Norris and MacKay, were both armed to the teeth, but the convict didn’t give them a chance to employ their weapons.

Fangs bared and eyes glaring red, underscoring his aggression, the V-CON struck out with such ferocity and skill that the two well-trained guards had to use all their strength just to stay on their feet.

“Ah, shit!” Dobbs cursed. He pressed down the button on his radio. “Corridor seven. Hostile V-CON, two guards in distress. Employ UV lights. Repeat…”

“Fuck!” Luther cursed, whirling his head back to Dobbs. “Are you fucking shitting me?”

On his release day he would get a last dose of UV rays? What the fuck was that supposed to be? A goodbye present?

But Dobbs merely shrugged and pulled his protective shield over his face. The rest of his body was already adequately protected by his gear, right down to the specially designed gloves.

“Fucking asshole!” Luther charged toward the melee. If he could diffuse the situation quickly enough, Dobbs would have enough time to cancel his command. No fucking idiot prisoner would get him burned on his release day!

“Over my fucking charred body!”

Livid, Luther barreled into the aggressive convict, taking him by surprise. The idiot hadn’t expected to be attacked by a fellow prisoner. Big mistake.

Slamming his fist into the jerk’s face, Luther yelled: “You’re not going to screw up my release day, you bastard!”

A fist flew straight at him, but the V-CON had no idea who he was dealing with. Luther might have been imprisoned for twenty years, and rightly so, but he’d lost not a bit of his lethal fighting skills. At best he was a little rusty, but his muscle memory returned with every second he pounded into the guy.

With stoic calmness Luther accepted the blows the other vampire managed to land.

Another punch, and his opponent finally landed on his back. Now that the hardest part was done, Norris and MacKay jumped back into the fray and restrained the V-CON’s arms.

But subduing the prisoner had taken too long.

Luther heard the tell-tale clicks of the light tubes on the ceiling.

“Fuck!” he cursed just as the lights flickered for a moment.

Then he felt the burn.

UV lights blasted him as if he were standing under the midday sun.

“Call it off, Dobbs! Fuck!” Luther screamed, whirling his head toward the guard.

He saw Dobbs fumble for his radio and drop it to the floor.

“Fucking imbecile!”

Pain searing through his body, Luther lunged for the communication device and grabbed it. He pressed down the button. Behind him he heard Norris and MacKay dealing with the V-CON who was now screaming with pain.

“Disengage UV lights in corridor seven,” Luther yelled into the radio. He’d heard the guards often enough to be familiar with their commands, their way of speaking.

“Who is this?” came the crackling reply.

The stench of burnt hair and skin—his as well as the other prisoner’s—rose into his nostrils, making him nauseous.

The radio was suddenly ripped from his hand.

“It’s Dobbs. Disengage UV lights in corridor seven immediately. V-CON subdued.”

Seconds later, the lights flickered again. Luther collapsed to the floor, this time not from pain, but from relief.

“Everything under control,” Norris now confirmed.

Luther slanted him a look, scoffing. Yeah, everything was under control now—no thanks to the guards. This was Luther’s doing. But before he could tell the guard what he thought of his comment, a shiny boot kicked him in the side, knocking him against the wall. Automatically, his fangs descended and his lips peeled away from his teeth, showing his attacker his pearly whites.

“Summerland!” Luther hissed under his breath. Figured!

He’d saved the guards from severe injury and possibly death, and this was his thanks for it?

The boot came his way a second time. Luther reached for it, but Summerland was jerked back.

“Let him be!” Norris ordered.

Luther glanced past the stunned guard, witnessing how Norris still held on to Summerland’s shoulder.

“Better help get the newbie settled.” Norris motioned to the subdued vampire whose face and hands were covered in angry blisters. He’d gotten the full brunt of the UV lights, lying on his back when the lights had come on.

Luther had been able to look away from the rays, but his nape and the back of his head had sustained significant damage—nothing some human blood and a good day’s sleep couldn’t fix.

“And I’m not gonna be the one writing up the incident report,” Norris insisted. “I’m due for my vacation.”

MacKay who held a UV gun to the head of the V-CON—whose hands were now tied with silver shackles—grunted in displeasure. “You sure know how to pick the right time, leaving the rest of us to deal with this newbie.” MacKay hit the butt of his gun against the prisoner’s temple. “Who doesn’t fucking know what’s good for him.”

“Let’s go, West,” Dobbs ordered. “Unless you like it here so much you wanna stay longer.”

In spite of the pain that radiated through his head and traveled down his spine, Luther jumped up, not wanting to show the ungrateful guards that he was hurting. He gave a nod of acknowledgment to his jailor, and continued his walk out of the hellhole that had been his home for twenty lonely years.

“My zipper is stuck!”

Katie Montgomery whirled around in the locker room-turned-dressing room-for-the-night. One side of it was reserved for the female members of the cast. Seven-foot-high partition walls separated the area from the section where the male actors got changed into their costumes.

The drama class at the University of San Francisco, a private school, was putting on A Midsummer Night’s Dream before the Christmas holidays. And as the drama teacher, Katie was responsible for the entire production, including making sure everybody looked the part and knew their lines. In addition she was also playing one of the parts herself, since unfortunately a female student had dropped out early in the semester and Katie couldn’t find anybody else for the demanding role.

The hustle and bustle, the chatter, the excitement among the amateur actors reminded her of the years she’d spent on film and television sets in Hollywood. Her name hadn’t been Katie then. Everybody in Hollywood knew her as Kimberly Fairfax, the blonde bombshell. Well, she wasn’t blonde anymore either—in fact, she’d never really been blonde. Her natural hair color was a rich dark brown, just like her brothers’, Haven and Wesley.

She rushed to Cindy, the twenty-year-old girl who’d wailed about her zipper. “I’ve got it.” She stepped behind her and looked at the back of the pastel-blue-and-green fairy costume. “Back in the sixteenth century they had buttons and bows,” Katie mumbled to herself. She pulled on the zipper, but it was tight. “Have you gained weight?”

Cindy looked over her shoulder and shrugged sheepishly. “I swear I only have one pastry in the mornings.”

Katie tilted her head to the side, but said nothing.

“Okay, and one in the afternoon. But it’s really not my fault. I’m just always hungry. And I’m still growing. Besides, we can’t all have the same perfect figure as you. I don’t know how you do it. You still look like you’re in your twenties, and I know for a fact that your first big movie was released when I was born.”

Smiling, Katie shook her head. “Just hold your breath for a moment.” She pulled the zipper up and patted the girl on the shoulder. “It’s all good.”

Before her student could continue commenting on Katie’s appearance, Katie turned away and looked around to see if she was needed anywhere else. She always refrained from commenting when people remarked on her looks and age.

She was forty-two, but for a witch, age meant nothing. While she wasn’t quite as ageless as her vampire brother, Haven, she and her witch brother Wesley aged so slowly they could easily pass for twenty-somethings. It was one of the reasons Katie had left Hollywood and the movie business behind. Too many people had started asking questions, wondering what plastic surgeon she was using to continue looking so young. She was afraid that one day they would figure out that she wasn’t human, but a preternatural creature.

Despite her witch genes, she had no powers to speak of. A ritual her mother had performed shortly after her birth had robbed her and her brothers of their witch powers. When her brother Haven had sacrificed his human life twenty years ago to save the world from an evil witch, and become a vampire, the Power of Three she and her brothers were supposed to possess had been destroyed for good.

But Wesley, her eight-years-older brother, had wanted his powers back. And he’d worked for it. Studied the craft. Made mistakes. Practiced more. Now, twenty years later, he was an accomplished witch. He used his powers for good instead of evil. And for Scanguards, the vampire-run security company they all owed so much to.

At least half of them were here tonight. They’d all come to watch Isabelle, Samson and Delilah’s daughter, perform. Instinctively her gaze searched for the young hybrid. As the daughter of a vampire and his blood-bonded human mate, Isabelle was an extraordinary creature. She combined the advantages of both species within herself: she had the strength and speed of a vampire without the drawback of being burned by sunlight. And once she turned twenty-one, she would stop aging, just like her vampire father had stopped aging when he was turned over two centuries earlier.

Isabelle wore a seventeenth-century gown in a rich azure color and looked absolutely stunning. The long dark hair that normally cascaded down her shoulders, framing her lovely figure, was fashioned into a medieval hairdo. Already now, at age twenty, men were standing in line to gain her affections. Isabelle had inherited her mother’s beauty and her father’s strength. She was a force to be reckoned with. It showed when she and her two brothers, Grayson and Patrick, nineteen and seventeen respectively, were of different opinions. Sparks flew when the three got into an argument. All three of them wanted to lead. Only one would finally rule.

But tonight something was different about Isabelle. She didn’t look as confident as usual. She seemed rather nervous and looked uncomfortable. Was she having stage fright?

Katie glanced at the large wall clock. In thirty minutes the curtain would rise. This was not the time for anybody to get cold feet. She was walking toward Isabelle, when she heard somebody call her name.

“Katie? Got a minute?”

She pivoted and saw Blake pop his head in the door.

“You can’t come in here!” she chastised and rushed toward him.

He immediately retreated. When she stepped outside into the corridor, he was waiting for her.

“Apologies, but nobody heard me knock,” he said, grinning disarmingly.

A decade ago Katie would have rolled her eyes and accused him of using any excuse to ogle the beautiful young girls in the dressing room. Not tonight. Blake had changed in more ways than one.

He’d matured and grown into an utterly handsome man with short dark hair, the same blue eyes as his 4th great-grandmother Rose, and a toned body made of pure muscle. The family resemblance to Quinn and Rose, however, ended there. He looked older than his blond vampire forebears now. His ancestors had been turned into vampires in their twenties, while Blake had become a vampire at age thirty-two, twelve years earlier. Quinn had turned him at Blake’s insistence.

“What is it?” Katie asked, looking up at Blake who dwarfed her.

“I just wanted to go over security with you.”

“But we’ve already done that. I really don’t have the time. We only have—”

“It won’t even take a minute of your time, sweetheart,” he insisted, turning on his charm.

“Sweetheart?” She laughed. There was nothing amorous going on between her and the tall vampire—they both knew that. “You must be desperate.”

Blake chuckled, displaying his white teeth. “You know me too well.” He pulled a piece of paper from the inside of the trendy sports coat he’d paired with black slacks and sturdy boots. “Samson’s orders.”

Involuntarily she had to smile. Even dressed in elegant eveningwear, Blake was always ready for war.

“I have the feeling you enjoy being the head of Scanguards’ personal security detail far too much.”

He smirked and looked around the corridor, making sure none of the stagehands who were arranging final details could overhear them. “Providing ‘round the clock security for thirteen hybrid teenagers is no walk in the park. And don’t even get me started on the parents.”

Katie knew what he meant. Some parents could be overprotective of their offspring, and Samson was no exception when it came to his three children. Though he did have reason to be cautious. Scanguards had enemies.

“Driving you nuts, are they?”

Blake ran a hand through his hair. “You have no idea. And trust me, those kids have never been safer in their lives than since I took over their security twelve years ago.”

“Was that why you wanted to be turned? So the kids couldn’t run roughshod over you?”

Blake briefly glanced down the hall where a worker was carrying two chairs into the next room. “That, and the fact that I didn’t want to look older than my grandparents.”

His serious expression belied the light tone of his voice.

“Sorry I asked.”

Blake blinked and gave a sigh. “Katie, I don’t mean to—”

She lifted her hand. “You don’t have to explain yourself—”

“I love these people,” Blake interrupted, motioning to the wall. Behind it was the stage and beyond that the audience waiting for the performance to start. “I love the Scanguards family. They’re my family, and I don’t want to leave them. Had I remained human, one day I would have had to. I can’t do that.”

Katie put her hand on his forearm and squeezed.

He met her eyes. “And if you tell any of them about what I just said, I’m going to suck the life out of you,” he warned.

“Don’t wanna come across as a big softy, that it?”

“Because I’m not.”

“No, you’re not. And loving somebody doesn’t make you weak, it makes you strong.”

“Well, let’s go over this.” Blake pointed to the piece of paper in his hand, clearly embarrassed. “I marked at which points in the play Isabelle is going to be on stage and when she’s supposed to be backstage with the other actors. Does that look right?”

Katie skimmed the list of scenes and nodded. “You know your Shakespeare.”

He shrugged. “Rose makes me read all that stuff.”

She grinned. “Sure she does.” The sound of the door opening behind her made her turn her head to see who was leaving the dressing room.

She saw Isabelle freeze as if caught.

“Oh, hey Blake,” Isabelle said quickly and a little too cheerfully. “Are you gonna watch?”

“Like a hawk.”

Isabelle rolled her eyes. “I meant the play.”

“So did I.” He pulled her into a quick hug, placing a kiss on the top of her head, before releasing her. Then his gaze bounced back and forth between Isabelle and Katie. “Oh my, if we stuck you two in the same clothes, I swear you could be confused for twins!”

Katie exchanged a look with Isabelle.

“Twins?” they said in unison.

Blake held up both hands. “Okay, sisters. But, boy, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you two came from the same womb.”

“Okay, enough of that,” Katie said and made a shooing motion. “Don’t you have work to do? Because I sure do.”

Blake grinned and nodded to Isabelle. “Break a leg, okay?”

Isabelle smiled. “Thanks.”

“You, too, Katie. But then you’re an old pro,” he added and turned.

“Hey, who are you calling old?” Katie protested. “I’m still younger than you!”

Without turning back, Blake waved his hand at her and continued walking down the corridor, before marching through a door and disappearing from view.

“Men!”

A suffering sigh came from Isabelle. Instantly, Katie ran her eyes over her. “Something wrong, honey?”

“It’s nothing, it’s just…”

“Stage fright?” Katie prompted. “Don’t worry, we all get it.”

“It’s not that. I’m ready for the play. I know all the lines. Not just mine. I know everybody’s.”

Katie brushed her hand over Isabelle’s hair, pride swelling in her chest. Samson’s daughter had talent. “Well, that’s why I made you understudy for all the major female roles. I’ve never seen anybody who could retain so many lines in such a short time.”

Isabelle smiled unexpectedly and a little of the gloom lifted off her face. “I’m so glad you did. That’s why, you know, I was wondering… I mean… Do you think…”

Katie felt her forehead furrow. Isabelle wasn’t normally somebody to be nervous or tongue-tied. “What’s bothering you?”

Isabelle twiddled the ribbons below her empire waist. “It’s Cameron.”

For a moment, Katie didn’t know who Isabelle was talking about. Then it dawned on her. “Cameron, who’s playing Lysander?”

Isabelle nodded and avoided eye contact when she continued talking. “Yes, who’s in love with Hermia.”

A soft smile tugged at Katie’s lips. “Who’s played by me.”

Isabelle lifted her head. “And in the end you get to kiss Lysander.”

“And Helena, played by you, gets to kiss Demetrius.”

Isabelle nodded, but didn’t comment further.

“I thought you wanted it that way. Isn’t that every girl’s dream, to be pursued by two men? Like in the play how Helena is pursued by both Lysander and Demetrius because of Puck’s love potion?”

“Yes, but Lysander’s love isn’t real. It’s just an illusion.”

“But it’s a play. It’s all an illusion.”

Just like Hollywood had been an illusion. A pretty one. One that had made her wealthy, not wanting for anything. But nothing had been real in Hollywood: in the end she hadn’t even been able to trust the people closest to her. Betrayal had nearly cost her her life. It was the real reason why she’d returned to San Francisco five years earlier: to return to her family, where she belonged, and to be safe again.

She’d managed to buy back the old Victorian house on Buena Vista Park that had once belonged to her family. And she’d made it vampire safe, so that whenever Haven and his mate Yvette visited, they wouldn’t have to worry about sunlight hurting them.

“I’d much rather be Hermia, because Lysander’s love for her is real,” Isabelle continued. “And you said yourself I know all the lines. I’m your understudy. You know I can do it.”

“You want me to switch roles with you?”

“Please.”

“You really like Cameron, don’t you?”

Isabelle nodded.

“Does he know?”

“No.”

“Why don’t you tell him?”

“I don’t know whether he likes me.”

“So you figured if you kiss him at the end of the play, you might find out?”

Isabelle shrugged. “No harm in that.”

Katie reached for Isabelle’s hand. “Well, we’d better get changed then. I’ve got everything in my private dressing room.”

It wasn’t really a dressing room, more a combination office/prop room she’d managed to borrow from the football coach for the duration of rehearsals.

“You’re the best!” Isabelle said.

Smiling, Katie steered her to the second door on the right and entered the windowless room, letting the door snap shut behind them.

“Never did mockers waste more idle breath,” Katie said, dressed as Helena in the long blue dress that Isabelle had worn before the performance, while looking back and forth between the two students who played Lysander and Demetrius.

The lights illuminated the three of them on the old creaking wooden stage of the university. In the chairs below in the auditorium, vampires and their families mixed with humans, who had no inkling about the preternatural creatures in their midst.

Before the performance, Katie had peeked through the curtain and scanned the audience. Both her brothers were in attendance; Haven had brought Yvette and their son and daughter. In the front row, Samson and Delilah sat proudly, flanked by their sons, Grayson and Patrick. Zane and the entire Eisenberg family were sitting in the back, while Amaury and Nina and their twins, eighteen-year old Damian and Benjamin, sat near the windows, which were covered by thick velvet curtains.

Quinn Ralston and his clan, which included his wife Rose, his protégé Oliver as well as Oliver’s mate Ursula and their ten-year old boy, Sebastian, sat in the row behind Samson. Blake, who was also part of the Ralston clan, had taken up a post near the entrance door, scanning the room, while occasionally speaking quietly into his intercom and listening to the mic in his ear. Tasked with guarding thirteen Scanguards minors, ranging from ages ten to twenty, he definitely had his hands full, despite the fact that all of them were accompanied by their parents.

Gabriel and Maya were surrounded by their brood, two teenage boys and a girl. Maya was responsible for vampire females being able to conceive, though they were normally infertile. Her medical and research background had finally paid off when she’d developed a treatment that allowed a vampire female to become pregnant and carry a child to term. It had made waves in the vampire community.

Her mate Gabriel, a vampire with a vicious scar marring the left side of his face, was scanning the crowd. As Scanguards’ number two, he never forgot his duty. Mixed among the Scanguards people sat the families of the other student actors, as well as many friends who’d come to support their classmates’ thespian passions.

“Lysander, keep thy Hermia; I will none: if e’er I lov’d her, all that love is gone. My heart to her but as guest-wise sojoun’d; and now to Helena is it home return’d, there to remain.”

Demetrius’s delivery was a little wooden, but Katie had to admit he’d proven to be faithful to his character, and she was pleased with the performance so far. Even though she’d slipped into the part of Helena—and as much as she wanted to immerse herself in the character—she was still aware of her role as the director and teacher.

“Helena, it is not so,” Lysander responded.

“Disparage not the faith thou dost not know, lest, to thy peril, though aby it dear,” Demetrius replied and looked to stage left, pointing his hand in the same direction. “Look where thy love comes; yonder is thy dear.”

Silence greeted Demetrius’s announcement.

“Yonder is thy dear,” he repeated, a little louder this time.

Katie’s pulse kicked up, while her eyes searched the darkness to the side of the stage from where Isabelle was supposed to reappear as Hermia, Lysander’s lover. But all she saw was one of her students dressed as a fairy waiting in the wings. She exchanged a look with the girl, but only got a helpless shrug as a response.

Isabelle had missed her cue! Embarrassed for her star student, Katie cringed. Had Isabelle forgotten her lines under the stress of the performance, or had she mistimed her next appearance on stage? Had she taken a bathroom break and forgotten the time?

From the auditorium, whispers drifted to Katie. The crowd was getting restless, sensing that something wasn’t going according to plan. Her gaze shot to the first row. She didn’t have to be able to see in the dark like the vampires watching to see Samson’s eyes, because they were glowing red now, pointing at her like beacons.

What’s going on? he mouthed, his entire face a mask of concern.

Katie had no problem reading his lips. It was a skill she’d learned during her professional acting career, when assistants off camera or off stage would prompt her.

She gave a quick shake of her head at Samson, then stared back at the side of the stage from which the actors entered. Still nothing.

An uncomfortable prickling sensation traveled up her arms. Something was wrong. Isabelle was a responsible person, despite her young age. She was an adult and didn’t flake out on her commitments.

The two students playing Lysander and Demetrius stared at her for guidance.

“What now?” Lysander murmured.

Katie didn’t reply. Instead she stalked to where the fairy waited in the wings, leaving the stage. She grabbed the chubby girl by the shoulders. “Where is Isabelle?”

“I don’t know.” Cindy choked down some food, powdered sugar rimming her lips. “She was here just a few minutes ago.”

“Go, run to the bathrooms and see if she’s there, quickly!”

Cindy instantly followed the command.

From the auditorium, more voices drifted to Katie. People were talking, wondering what was the problem. Just like she was.

“Where is she, where is Isabelle?”

Katie whirled her head in the direction of the voice and saw Blake rushing toward her, entering the backstage area from the corridor.

“I don’t know. She missed her cue. She might be in the bathroom. I’ve already sent somebody there to look for her. Maybe she got nervous.”

Blake pressed his finger to the mic in his ear. “Secure the perimeter. Find Isabelle Woodford. I repeat: secure all exits. Nobody gets in or out of this place without me knowing. Got that?”

Before she could tell Blake that he was probably overreacting, heavy footsteps came through the darkness backstage.

“Isabelle?” Samson pushed past Blake, his hazel eyes pinning Katie with a look that could have outclassed the Spanish Inquisition. “Where is my daughter?”

For a moment, Katie was paralyzed. The over six foot tall vampire made an imposing figure. He was power personified. She’d always known that, though she’d also seen his kind side, had experienced it personally many years earlier. But tonight he was something else: a concerned father.

“Check the dressing rooms and the bathrooms!” Blake barked into his mic.

“I don’t know where she is; she was supposed to come back on stage,” Katie said, replying to Samson. She wrung her hands in front of her stomach, anxiety building inside her.

The sound of somebody running in sandals came closer and Katie peered past the Scanguards boss.

“She’s not in the bathroom,” Cindy called to her, an expression of regret on her face. “I can’t find her.”

Blake barked more orders into his mic, some of them so low that Katie couldn’t understand them. Past the curtain that separated the backstage area from the stage and the auditorium she heard people running around. Blake’s team was seemingly at work to search every corner of the building.

“Cindy, assemble all the other students in the men’s dressing room. Go!” Katie ordered. “And stay there until we know what’s going on.”

The girl looked frightened, but nodded and disappeared.

Samson looked at his chief of personal security. “Anything?”

“My guys are still searching. But there’s no sign of her in the bathrooms or the dressing rooms.”

“Maybe my dressing room? We were getting changed in there earlier,” Katie offered, desperate to be of help.

Blake charged outside.

“What the fuck’s going on?” a voice came out of the dark.

A second later, Grayson appeared from between the curtains. He was the mirror image of his father. His hair was as dark as a raven, though he’d gotten his eyes from his mother Delilah: green, just like Katie’s. Grayson’s green eyes were now flickering red as if he had a hard time controlling his vampire side. “Where is my sister?”

“We don’t know yet,” Samson said, his voice tight.

Blake came running. “Nothing in Katie’s dressing room. We also checked all the closets on this level. My guys are working their way up to the other floors.”

“And the exits?” Samson demanded.

“Nobody’s getting in or out of this building without me knowing,” Blake confirmed.

Grayson took a step toward Blake. “Then why the fuck can’t you find her? You’re supposed to know where she is at all times. You’re supposed to protect her!”

Grayson was a hothead, just like Blake had been in his youth, but deep down he was like his father: fiercely protective of his family. If Katie had ever had any doubts about Grayson’s loyalty to his siblings despite their constant rivalry, his anger at Blake now expunged them entirely.

Blake peeled his lips back from his gums, flashing the nineteen-year-old just enough fang to demand respect. “Isabelle was playing a different part from the one she was supposed to.”

Katie expected Blake to point the finger at her, but to her surprise, he didn’t. Instead he took the blame on himself. “I didn’t adjust her security detail in time.” He narrowed his eyes at the hybrid. “But I can assure you, Grayson, I will find your sister. She’s my responsibility, and I don’t—”

“It’s my fault,” Katie cut in, putting her hand on Blake’s forearm. “I’m to blame. She begged me to change roles with her. And I agreed.” She turned her head to Samson. “I’m sorry. It was all last minute. I—”

Samson cut her off with an abrupt movement of his hand. Then he looked back at Blake. “Search every inch of this building and the grounds. She has to be here. She has to.”

“Samson!” Delilah’s strained voice came from behind him.

He spun around.

Katie noticed their wordless exchange. As a blood-bonded couple they were able to communicate telepathically. Seconds passed in silence. It made Katie even more aware of the goings-on around her: stagehands rummaged through the area where spare furniture was kept, turning over each item. Scanguards staff rushed through the corridors, opened every door, checked every closet. Different voices calling for Isabelle could be heard throughout the building. Katie knew that others would be outside the building, searching the surrounding parking lot, adjacent buildings, and streets. There was any number of hiding places, though Katie knew that Isabelle wasn’t hiding. She sensed it in her gut. Could feel it in her veins. Just like Samson and Delilah sensed it.

With every second that passed, reality encroached on the make-believe world of the stage behind her: Isabelle was gone.

Katie watched as Samson pulled his wife into his arms and pressed her to him, gently caressing her head.

“We’ll find her, sweetness,” he promised.

More people now crowded into the backstage area. Zane, the bald vampire who could scare the living daylights out of anybody, marched toward Samson, clearly agitated. He had a special connection to Isabelle: he was her godfather, the first person Isabelle had ever bitten. Besides her parents, he was the closest confidant she had.

A sob tore from Delilah, and Grayson exchanged a look with his father. Samson nodded and transferred his wife into his son’s arms.

“She has to be here, Mom,” Grayson comforted her.

“Nothing in the basement,” Zane reported to Samson, then turned to Blake. “How about the surveillance cameras?”

“I’ve already sent Eddie to check the video footage,” Blake replied, just as Amaury joined them.

The linebacker-sized vampire with the shoulder-long hair exchanged a quick glance with Samson. “The upper floors are clear, too.”

Blake touched his mic and listened for a moment. Then, “Bring him in! What are you waiting for? Now!”

Instantly, Katie could see all the vampires backstage go on alert. Their eyes started to glow, and she could see their mouths become fuller as their fangs extended.

“Who?” Samson asked Blake.

“My guys found an unknown vampire lurking in the parking lot. They’re bringing him in now.”

When the assembled vampires’ eyes narrowed a few moments later, Katie realized that they could already hear the intruder being dragged in, though it took another few seconds for Katie’s ears to perceive the sound of the struggling individual.

Everybody was rushing toward the door, anticipating the suspect’s arrival. Their broad backs obstructed Katie’s view. Anxious to find out what was going on, Katie stepped onto a footstool and looked over the vampires’ heads, just as three of Blake’s men brought in a defiant vampire.

Oh my God! He looked ferocious, and the black hair, black lashes, and dark complexion made him look like the devil. His eyes glared red, and his fangs were extended. He was big, broad-shouldered and muscular. He wore casual clothes, but there was nothing casual about his demeanor. Power and strength radiated from every pore of his body. She was inexplicably drawn to that power. Drawn to the vampire beneath the surface.

The sudden silence in the room pulled her out of her observation and made her snap her gaze upward, back to the captive’s face. The strange vampire had stopped struggling and was staring at Samson.

“Luther!” Samson hissed.

It had been a bad idea to show up in San Francisco wanting to make things right, Luther realized now. Apparently twenty years had done nothing to lessen Samson’s hatred for him. Nor Amaury’s. Both his former friends glared at him as if they were ready to rip his head off. Maybe they should. Maybe it would all be for the better.

“Oh my God, it’s him, it’s Luther,” the tearful voice of a woman broke the hate-filled silence.

He didn’t have to break eye contact with Samson to recognize the voice: Delilah, the woman he’d almost killed so many years earlier.

“It was him, it was him!” she now yelled with a fury he didn’t quite understand.

If he’d known that everybody at Scanguards held a grudge for such a long time, he would have never come.

“I paid the fucking price,” Luther ground out.

What else did they want from him? The council had sentenced him to twenty years, though they could have given him fifty, but Amaury’s mate, Nina, had pleaded for leniency. Maybe she shouldn’t have. Maybe he didn’t deserve leniency.

“Release him!” Samson commanded the guards who were restraining him. When they hesitated, he added, “That’s an order.”

When the men took their claws off him, Luther felt a sense of surprise wash over him. Had he misjudged Samson?

A balled fist punched him in the face so fast and so hard that Luther was catapulted back. He lost his balance and crashed against the wall. Before he could jump back up, Samson was already on him.

“Where’s my daughter?” he yelled and delivered a second blow to Luther’s jaw.

Luther’s head snapped to the side, and he tasted blood. His own blood. “How the fuck should I know?”

When the next blow came, Luther blocked it with his forearm and pushed back. But Samson didn’t give up so easily. Fury coursed through Luther, giving him wings. He reared up and barreled toward his former friend, delivering an uppercut to Samson’s chin, yet still holding back his true strength.

Samson’s eyes blazed with unbridled rage, while his friends stood back a few paces, allowing their boss to do as he pleased. Luther gritted his teeth. He hadn’t come to duke it out with Samson as if they were two thugs. That hadn’t been his plan. Far from it.

But apparently it was what Samson wanted.

Another punch veered toward Luther’s temple. In a lightning-fast move he raised his arm, preventing Samson’s claws from reaching their target, while kicking his foot against his opponent’s knee. But Samson didn’t go down as expected. Sure-footed, he barely swayed before drawing back his arm for another blow.

“Stop it!” Luther yelled.

“What did you do to my daughter?” Samson repeated, flashing his fangs.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about!”

But his words fell on deaf ears. Samson’s claws came toward him. Luther moved, but the wall at his back and another vampire who stood too close made it impossible to get out of the path of the lethal instrument fast enough. Sharp barbs, as deadly as knives, sliced across his shoulder, leaving deep cuts from which blood oozed instantly. The metallic scent permeated the air in the corridor, inciting the need in the assembled vampires to show their vampire side.

Fangs flashed. Fingers turned into claws. Eyes glowed red. Men turned into bloodthirsty vampires. He’d seen it often enough—prison had been a perfect microcosm of what happened on the outside.

Samson slammed his full body weight against Luther, pinning him against the wall. Though Luther could have pushed him off, what would have been the point when at least seven other vampires were surrounding them, ready to interfere should their boss be in danger? Not even Luther could beat those odds. So he didn’t even try.

“Go ahead, slice me open!” he challenged his old friend. “But it won’t change my answer. I don’t fucking know where your daughter is.”

At least now he could guess that the slightly hostile treatment he was receiving had nothing to do with what had happened twenty years ago. Rather, he seemed to have stumbled into an incident that was only just unraveling. And he sure had no interest in sticking around to find out what this was about. If Samson couldn’t keep tabs on his daughter, it wasn’t Luther’s goddamn problem.

Through narrowed eyes Samson watched him intently, as if he could find out the truth by staring at him. Luther didn’t blink. He had nothing to hide.

From behind Samson, another vampire appeared. Luther had never seen him before, but he knew nevertheless who he was. After all, he was a younger edition of Samson himself—and a hybrid. He had to be his son.

“He’s lying. He has to be lying!” the young hybrid spat. “Dad, you can’t possibly believe Luther! Not after all he did!” It appeared Samson’s offspring knew who he was—and what he’d done in the past. Mistrust spewed from the boy’s eyes.

“Grayson!” Samson growled, tossing his son a warning look. “You take care of your mother and Patrick; I’ll handle this.”

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