Alex

SANTIAGO LIVES in a fancy neighborhood in Oro Valley, up against the Catalina Mountain range. I park my motorcycle, climb the wall, and scan the backyard. Huge pool, fancy patio. But beyond the stone bar and grill and deck furniture, there’s a regular door. It’ll be easy enough to kick it in.

I take a moment to slip past the cameras. No flood lights on the lawn— vampires can see in the dark. Luckily, so can shifters. I hunker down into the bushes and wait.

Vampires are at their strongest at night and I find they’re a bit sluggish closer to daybreak. Not Simmon—he’s old enough that he can stay awake until the first ray of dawn. But even his oldest sired are well inside by the dark hour before sunrise.

So I crouch until soft light glows in the sky just beyond the mountains. After taking a swig from my flask, I amble to the back door and let myself in. It’s unlocked—you’d have to be crazy to steal from a vampire. Most save all their defenses and booby traps for their sleeping lairs, which is why I want to catch Santiago here awake. He won’t expect it. After a life of hunting vampires, I know what brings them down. Hubris. They’re the biggest, baddest predator on Earth, and they know it. They don’t realize otherwise—until I’m standing over them with a stake.

Of course, I don’t have orders to kill Santiago. Just question him. He might live if Simmon likes his answers. Simmon hates killing his sired because,

according to him, it’s difficult to make new ones.

The house is cool, clean, and scented like lemon. I search the rooms, but they’re unused. Perfectly decorated but they smell empty. I open the fridge—a few decanters of blood, and a half drunk bottle of wine, but nothing else.

The vampire isn’t here. He probably sleeps elsewhere. Unless I want to catch him partying or fully awake, this is a dead end. Not that I expected it to be easy.

Beside the fridge is a bag of dog food. An expensive type—real wild caught meat or something. I take a moment and tune into the scent below the cold stone smell of the vampire. That’s when I catch the familiar musk.

Dog. Or something close. Not wolf.

Skin prickling, I head to the tiled pantry. In the corner, a colorful Mexican blanket covers a large structure. A cage.

The monster bear in my chest starts to rumble. Not a growl, but a low soothing sound.

I flip up the serape and there’s my little fox. Crumpled, still in human form.

Naked but for the white collar. She’s shivering.

My bear rumbles louder.

I open the cage. She winces at the loud metal scrape, her eyes squeezing shut, her body contracting into the smallest point possible. There are still a few marks on her pale skin, though most have faded. Thank fuck she’s a shifter not a human. The dom really worked her over for her to still be healing.

And then he left her in a cage. My body shakes with my bear’s grumbling. I rip the blanket off the cage and cover her with it.

“Master?” she asks in the softest whisper. Her quavering voice touches me light as fingers. Fuck, I’m hard.

“I’m not your master,” I answer her gruffly. I’m so pissed, my bear is ready to burst from my skin and tear down this mansion room by room. What kind of asshole leaves his sub to go through sub drop alone? Not just alone, but trembling in a cage? With nothing but dog food to feed her?

“Come here,” I order. She responds instantly, crawling closer.

“Closer,” I encourage before I can think about what I’m doing. “Come to me. All the way, kit. Out of the cage.”

Eyes still closed, she crawls out of the cage, straight into my arms. “That’s it.” I automatically cradle her close. As soon as her small body tucks against my chest, my bear’s angry commentary quiets into a low bass note. He’s purring. I didn’t know he could do that.

The woman rubs her face against my t-shirt, burrowing. Still on autopilot, I rest a palm on her head, guiding her to settle.

With a sigh, the little submissive relaxes.

“Good girl,” I murmur. The words are right there on the tip of my tongue. I’ve watched enough scenes at the club to know what to say, but I spoke them easily, without thinking. Her breathing slows, her mouth grows lax. Her eyes are still closed, so I don’t know the exact moment she falls asleep.

All I know is I’m standing inside a mansion I broke into, my arms full of a vampire’s pet, and I can’t let go. For the first time in a long time, my bear has found someone to hold.