Verah stood against the wall, her hands bound behind her back, her expression impassive as the Alpha’s son strutted back and forth in front of her.

She had been stunned by their ability to render her powerless. How had they known that binding her hands with rope braided with sprigs of rowan would negate her powers? She had spent hours turning it over in her mind, finally concluding that being supernatural creatures with weaknesses of their own, they had most likely studied the strengths and weaknesses of vampires and witches, searching for ways to subdue their enemies for just such an occasion as this.

Few people these days were aware that rowan wood had often been used by druids for staves. Its branches had been used by people of old for dowsing rods and magic wands. Some believed rowan protected homes from lightning; others held to the belief that it could keep the dead from rising. An ancient legend claimed the Devil had hanged his mother from a rowan tree.

Verah yawned in the boy’s face when he threatened her life again. Insolent pup, she thought scornfully, so full of himself, so certain he had the upper hand.

Which, at the moment, he did. But she was counting on the fact that he needed her alive to obtain what he desired.

Face mottled with rage, he slapped her, once, twice, three times. The sound of his hand striking her echoed like gunshots off the stone walls.

“There will be no food for you, no water, no rest, until you answer my questions!”

Cheeks burning from the force of his blows, she shook her head and repeated the answer that had made him so angry. “I cannot help you.”

He could threaten her until he was blue in the face, beat her until she was too weak to stand, but she would never tell him what he wanted to know. She needed the werewolf girl for her own ends. As for the son of the Green Mountain Pack’s Alpha, he could go straight to hell. And when she escaped from this place, as she surely would, she intended to send him there.

He stared at her for several minutes, his frustration a palpable presence in the room, and then he spun on his heel and stormed out the door.

Verah exhaled a sigh of relief. Yesterday, he had quizzed and questioned her for hours.

Grateful for a reprieve, she was about to sink down on the floor when the door flew open and her tormentor stepped inside carrying a covered box.

Verah gasped when Victor removed the cover, revealing a cat carrier.

Rama meowed loudly when he saw his mistress.

“You will tell me what I want to know, now,” Victor said, “or I will slit the cat’s throat and drink its blood.”

* * *

Chapter 26

It was midafternoon when Kay woke. Happiness welled inside her when she saw Gideon sleeping beside her. So, it hadn’t been a dream, after all. She was really Gideon’s wife and nothing would ever be the same again.

Last night had been beyond wonderful, beyond anything she had ever imagined. She glanced at her watch, willing the hours and minutes until nightfall to pass quickly so she could be in her husband’s arms again, taste his kisses, feel the hard masculine length of his amazing body pressed intimately against her own. Who would have thought that a chance meeting in the most unlikely of places would turn out so well? Or that a half-breed werewolf would fall hopelessly, helplessly, in love with a centuries-old vampire? Or that she could be this happy?

Or this hungry.

She kissed Gideon on the cheek, then slid out of bed. Closing the door behind her, she padded naked and barefooted into the living room and called room service. Certain that she would need all her strength for another bout of lovemaking with Gideon when he awoke, she ordered the biggest breakfast the hotel had to offer, then sat back, wriggling her feet in the thick carpet and smiling as she anticipated the night to come.

After breakfast, she dressed and went downstairs to try her hand at the slot machines. Vegas in the daytime wasn’t nearly as bright, loud, crowded, or exciting as it was after dark.

She exchanged a fifty-dollar bill for fifty-dollar tokens, then found a vacant seat in front of one of the slot machines.

It was fun at first, but after half an hour or so, she found herself constantly checking the time. Even winning a small jackpot didn’t really take her mind off Gideon. She wished he was there beside her. It would be much more fun to win if Gideon was there to share the moment with her.

After scooping her change into a handy cup, she tried her hand at blackjack but quickly grew bored with that, as well.

Leaving the casino floor, she strolled through the gift shops. Lots of salt-and-pepper shakers, shot glasses, and T-shirts with Vegas logos.

She ate a quick dinner, then returned to the room, thinking that spending the day with a sleeping husband was better than anything Vegas had to offer.

Gideon woke to the feel of a warm, deliciously naked, feminine form pressed close to his side. Eyes still closed, he slid his arm around her waist, felt his body come alive as Kay leaned up on one elbow and kissed him, lightly at first, and then with growing intensity.

With a low growl, he flipped her onto her back and straddled her hips, his body holding hers in place, one of his hands trapping both of hers above her head.

She fluttered her eyelashes at him, a seductive smile curving her lips.

“Didn’t your father ever tell you that it isn’t safe to wake a sleeping vampire?”

“Actually, the subject never came up,” she replied with a saucy grin. “Although I see something else has sprung to life.”

Gideon grinned back at her. “Nice of you to notice.” He lifted a lock of her hair and let it slide through his fingers. And then he frowned. “What did you do today?”

“Nothing much. I went down to the casino for a little while, but it wasn’t any fun without you.”

“Do you think that was wise?”

She shrugged. “No one knows we’re here. And I can’t just sit around and watch TV all day, you know. I had to do something to pass the time waiting for you to wake up.”

“Impatient are you, Wolfie?”

“Of course not!” she replied, as if that were the most ridiculous thing she had ever heard. “I was just bored.”

“Oh, well, if that’s all it is, I’m sure I can think of something to arouse your interest for the next ten or twelve hours.”

“Really?” She slipped one hand from his and trailed her fingertips over his chest. “What did you have in mind?”

“Oh, a little of this …” Leaning down, he kissed her, his tongue teasing hers. “A little of that.” He nuzzled the valley between her breasts, then moved to the soft sweet spot beneath her ear.

Writhing beneath him, she murmured, “I’d like a little more of that.”

Chuckling, he ran his tongue along the side of her neck, then grazed her skin with his fangs.

“More.” She cupped the back of his head in her hands, holding him in place as she turned her head to the side. “Do it,” she urged. “Bite me.”

There was no way to resist, not when he could hear the way her heartbeat accelerated, the whisper of her life’s blood flowing hot and sweet through her veins.

She moaned softly as his bite coincided with the joining of his body to hers. Her hands moved restlessly up and down his back as pleasure upon pleasure swept through her.

There was a dull roaring in her ears that gradually morphed into the sound of someone pounding on the door. Confused, she looked at Gideon.

His expression brought her quickly back to reality. Springing from the bed, he hissed, “Your father is here. And he’s not alone. Victor and his father are with him.”

Jackknifing into a sitting position, Kay grabbed the bedspread and wrapped it around her, toga-style. “How did they find us?”

“Verah.” He swore under his breath.

“Why would she tell them … ? Oh.”

Gideon nodded. Verah wanted his blood. Victor wanted Kay.

There was another knock on the door, louder this time. “What’ll we do?” Kay asked, her gaze darting around the room.

“Get the hell out here.”

He reached for her hand as the door burst open. Russell, and Victor and Diego Rinaldi, rushed into the room.

With a savage howl, Russell grabbed hold of Kay’s arm and wrenched her away from Gideon.

Victor brandished a stake, his lips pulled back in a feral grin. His father, looking wary, held a bottle of what Gideon assumed was holy water.

Gideon glared at the three men. He had never run from a fight. He could have killed them all, but how could he destroy Kay’s father with her standing there, watching?

“Gideon, get out of here!” Kay hollered, tugging against her father’s hold. “Go! Now.”

He stared at her for stretched seconds; then, muttering a sharp oath, he dissolved into mist and vanished from sight.

Victor took a step toward her, his face mottled with rage. “You little whore… .”

“Shut up, Victor! That’s my daughter you’re talking to.”

Victor closed his mouth with an audible snap, but he continued to glare at Kay, his eyes filled with contempt.

Russell glanced around the room, noting Gideon’s clothes folded over the chair, his daughter’s clothing scattered on the floor, the bed rumpled, the sheets smelling of sex. “What have you done?”

Kay lifted one shoulder and let it fall. “I’d think the answer should be obvious.”

Without warning, her father slapped her, a single, stinging blow.

She reeled backward, her hand flying to her cheek, her eyes watering from the pain. But it was the disdain in her father’s eyes, the fact that he had actually struck her, that hurt the most.

“Victor, Diego, wait in the other room. Kiya, get dressed.”

She held her ground, waiting for her father to leave.

Russell shook his head, then moved to stand in front of the window, his back toward her. “You’ve defied me for the last time, daughter,” he said, his voice cold and without affection. “Get dressed.”

Kay’s hands were shaking as she pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweater. Never in all her life had she been so humiliated, or seen her father so angry. Sitting on the bed to put on her shoes, she wondered how far Gideon had gone. And when, if ever, she would see him again.