Leaning forward, she studied the small intricate sketch of a child's face Paulina was drawing on her palm with a ballpoint pen. Beautiful. "Did you know him?" she asked the girl.

"He's my brother." Paulina's misery was all the more pronounced by the terrible lack of emotion in her words.

Faith knew the girl couldn't have seen him since she was thrown out two years ago. Her heart broke for Paulina, her determination to help her find a better life hardening inside her. "I waited on a lady at the diner last night," Faith said casually. "She works at the art academy."

Paulina's pen stilled.

"I showed her the sketch you gave me, of the kids in the park." Faith opened her orange juice and took a sip, letting her words sink in. "She wants to meet you."

Paulina's head snapped up, angry blue eyes shadowed with raw vulnerability pinned her. "Meet me? To do what? I'm a whore!"

Dammit. Her own temper flared. "It's not like you chose this life!" She hated that these girls were victimized, then reviled for it. It was so unfair. "That's not all you are, Paulina. You're a girl, too. And according to that lady, a talented artist."

Paulina's expression didn't soften. "You had no right to show her my picture!" She grabbed her orange juice, leaped from the bed, and stomped out the door, slamming it behind her.

Faith sighed. Getting past Paulina's defenses was going to be a challenge. Not that she hadn't run into girls like her before. They were the ones she most often targeted. Unfortunately, she failed with them as often as she succeeded. Bitterness that thick often made it impossible for them to ever see themselves as anything more than the prostitutes that circumstances had made them.

Maria turned to Faith with wide eyes too old for her face. "She wants it too much, you know. To be an artist. It's better not to want anything."

Faith turned and leaned back against the stained wall. "That's what I used to think, too."

Maria scooted over to sit beside her, dropping her head against Faith's shoulder. "What do you want, Faith?"

What did she want? To help these girls. And then others in another city. And others after that. That was all she'd ever wanted.

But was it really? In a strange way she envied Maria because Maria believed she was loved, even if it was only by her pimp. And Faith couldn't say the same.

It's better not to want anything.

She'd long ago learned it was true.

Faith pulled her sweater closed against the evening's dampness as she walked home from work. It had rained earlier, driving a lot of street traffic into the diner, and she'd wound up having a lucrative, if busy night. The tips from tonight alone should be enough to buy food for another week, all of which she'd share with Paulina and Maria. Assuming Paulina came back.

On the street in front of her building, she passed several of the girls she'd had no luck in befriending. As she neared the tenement's half-broken door, she spotted a familiar form standing against a brick wall scarred by wartime bullets. Her head down, shoulders bent, her pimp at her side, was Maria.

Faith started to pass them, unwilling to do anything that might alienate her from this girl, too. Until Maria lifted her head and the streetlight illuminated her swollen and bleeding lip and the tears streaking her face.

Faith stopped, hands fisting at her sides. She might not have the power of her shifter ancestors, but her immortal blood made her as strong as many human males.

As if hearing the silent threat, Stanislov looked up, meeting her gaze. "I'll find him. And I'll kill him."

Faith saw the truth in his dark eyes and knew he wasn't the one who'd hurt Maria. Not with his fists, at least. In his own warped way, the man cared for the girl. Maybe even loved her.

Maria buried her head against the young pimp's chest, and he led her away, leaving Faith standing on the sidewalk feeling sick and angry. And, as so often happened, confused. There were so few clear rights and wrongs on the street. Stanislov was a pimp who'd taken advantage of a young girl's utter vulnerability. A villain of the worst sort. And yet, tonight, he was absolutely Maria's champion. And Faith was glad for it. Tonight. Even as she knew Stanislov's protectiveness would only make it that much harder for Faith to get Maria to leave him.

Faith sighed and was about to turn back toward her building when a man caught her eye. Walking down the sidewalk toward her, he looked like he belonged on the pages of a fashion magazine, not these streets. In his expensive-looking sport coat and white turtleneck, he looked wholly out of place. Beneath the flickering light of a streetlamp, he appeared quite tall, his shoulders broad, his hair overly long and slicked back. With a small jaw and a weak chin, his face was forgettable. But as the streetlamp illuminated his profile, the hungry, predatory look in his eyes as his gaze combed the girls on the street corner had her inner alarm bells going off.

He stopped suddenly, freezing for a harsh moment before whipping something from his inner jacket pockets. Steel flashed in the streetlight.

Knives.

Faith's breath caught on the fear that he was going after one of the girls. But his stance turned suddenly defensive, his knees bending as if he prepared for an attack. His gaze had veered away from the girls and closer to Faith until he was staring at something just over her head.

Faith pivoted, prepared to protect herself from whatever danger approached, but she saw nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing to warrant such a blatantly defensive stance. Then a flash of movement caught her eye, and she saw them. Two draden, each about the size of a large man's fist. Flying right toward her!

She tensed for the attack, strangling a cry. The humans couldn't see them and wouldn't be bothered by them, but the creatures she'd always thought looked like jellyfish with scary faces were the most deadly things in her world. They fed off Therian life energy and could kill her within minutes if she didn't manage to kill them first. Fortunately, few existed so far from the Therian enclaves. She hadn't been attacked in years.

Unfortunately, they'd found her tonight. Without weapons, her only means of defense was to reach into their bodies, through mouths lined with sharp, wicked teeth, and tear out their hearts.

Her skin turned cold. Her heart began to pound.

As the first attacked, she lifted her hand to ward him off and felt the dozens of sharp little teeth tear into her wrist, latching on. Before she could react, the stranger was beside her, stabbing one draden with his knife, then the other. As quickly as they'd appeared, the creatures were gone, reduced to puffs of smoke.

Gripping her throbbing wrist, dazed from the attack, she slowly turned and stared at the man. "You're Therian."

He gave a shallow bow, little more than a deep nod. "I am. As are you." His gaze skimmed her, head to toe, his expression telling her he wasn't much impressed.

Her pride rose, her chin lifting. She was dressed for work, not a night on the town. But as they eyed one another, something happened. A strange feeling began to bubble up inside her, a feeling of recognition. Connection. As if she belonged to him somehow.

The startled expression on his face told her he felt it, too. "Who are you?"

"I'm Faith."

"I've never seen you. I did not know there was a Therian enclave nearby."

"I've only lived here a few months. And I have no enclave."

He studied her, his eyes taking on a speculative light. "You're mine."

"Yes." Why had she said that? But it was true. She felt it deep inside. She knew it. Goddess, this wasn't right. She shook her head. "I mean, no. I don't even know you."

"Destiny clearly has plans for us, Faith. It is said, one always recognizes one's mate."

The word stopped her cold. "But I'm not . . . you're not . . ." Her pulse began to thrum. Her mate? Her trouble radar had started beeping at the first sign of him, and if not for the draden attack, she'd have given him a wide berth. Or watched him like a hawk until she was certain he was no threat to her girls.

Had she misjudged him? He wasn't human, after all, but Therian.

Her mate.

Was it possible? The thought tantalized. As a child, she'd heard stories of the rare and wonderful mates that few Therians could hope to find. The mate of one's heart, one's soul. What if she'd found hers? A man who would love her without question, who would understand her as no one else ever had or ever would. The idea bloomed inside her, a burst of warm excitement and longing.

"I leave for America tomorrow. You'll accompany me." His tone was certain. Arrogant.

Faith's jaw dropped. "America? Tomorrow? No. I can't possibly . . ."

But he continued as if she hadn't spoken. "I've been marked to be the next Feral Warrior."

She stared at him, surprise turning to awe. A real honest-to-goodness shape-shifter. Goose bumps lifted on her arms.

"Feral House is in America, now, near Washington, D.C. The Ferals await me. We'll travel together and be mated there."

She continued to stare at him, thoughts and emotions careening into one another, catching and tangling. It was too soon, too fast. Her mate. She didn't know him. A Feral Warrior. She wasn't even sure she liked him. The animal only ever marked the best, the finest. And the certainty remained that she belonged to him.

What if he was the one? The one? Soul mates came along so rarely and only ever once. If she let him walk away now, she might never see him again. She might never know . . .

"Where do you live?" he demanded. "I'll bring a car around for you tomorrow morning."

With a shake of her head, she stared at him helplessly. "I have . . . people . . . here." Paulina and Maria. Girls she wanted to help, but she could hardly call them her people. It was all too likely she'd fail with both of them. Paulina might already be lost to her.

This is your chance, a small voice inside her whispered. You've spent your whole life seeking a better life for the girls you meet. Now it's your turn.

Feral House. The home of the Feral Warriors. Her mate. Every girl's dream.

The man's jaw - she didn't even know his name - tightened in frustration, then slowly relaxed, his tone turning almost cajoling.

"Come with me, Faith. We'll not seal the mating bond until we're both certain. But how will we know if we are meant for one another if we remain apart? And I cannot delay my flight. The Feral Warriors need me."

The longer she remained in his company, the stronger the tug inside her grew - waves of emotions that lacked all logic, a need to please him. Loyalty. Devotion. The utter certainty that she belonged at his side.

"Yes, of course I'll come with you." The words were out of her mouth before her mind even made a decision. She didn't know the man! Then again, she never would unless she went with him. And she'd wind up spending thousands, perhaps tens of thousands of nights alone, wondering if she'd lost her one chance at love. "But I have to come back, at least for a little while." She refused to disappear from Maria's and Paulina's lives without one more concerted effort to get them off the streets and into a safe environment.

He frowned. For a minute, she feared he'd refuse her, forcing her to choose between him and the girls. Instead, he gave a curt nod and glanced at the building behind her with ill-concealed distaste.

"Is this where you live?"

"Yes."

"I'll meet you here at eight tomorrow morning." Without a backward glance, he turned and started walking.

"Wait!" she called. "What's your name?"

"Maxim." He didn't even bother to turn around.

"Who's Maxim?" Paulina asked at her elbow, surprising her. Thank heavens she'd come back.

"I'm not sure," Faith answered truthfully. My future husband?

"I don't like him."

Faith looked at the girl. "Do you know him?"

"No. I've never seen him before." Paulina scowled, but her expression lacked its usual belligerence. And when she spoke, her voice was low. "There's something wrong about him."

Faith turned and stared after the man until he disappeared from sight. Wrong, yes, but not in the way Paulina thought. Maxim wasn't human. He was immortal and soon to be a shape-shifter. A Feral Warrior. One of the finest men the race had to offer. No matter his arrogance, she knew he must be a good man deep inside.

And the fates, the goddess, had chosen her for his mate. How could she possibly turn her back on that?

Faith took Paulina's hand, relieved when the teen didn't pull away. "I'm leaving for a little while, Paulina. I'm . . . going with him. To America."

Paulina jerked her hand out of Faith's hold, her mouth dropping open. "When?"

"Tomorrow."

The look of betrayal in the girl's eyes was there and gone so fast, Faith nearly missed it, but it cut her to the quick.

"I'll be back, Paulina. In a few weeks, at the latest. At least for a little while."

The girl whirled away. "Don't bother!" She took off at a run.

As she stared after the girl's retreating form, Faith's shoulders sagged beneath the weight of guilt and the certain knowledge that she'd made a lot more progress with Paulina than she'd realized. And had now almost certainly destroyed it.

She should stay here. Find her. Try to make it right. Try to rebuild that trust and finish the job she'd begun.

But deep in her mind, a soft voice urged her to do otherwise. You belong to Maxim. Anticipation stirred within her at the prospect of accompanying him to Feral House, of meeting the Feral Warriors. But it was the thought of having someone who cared about her, who loved her, that made her eyes sting with tears and her heart ache with longing. You belong to Maxim. Already, the mating bond was forming, growing. There was no denying it. No fighting it.