Prologue
“I know what you are.”
Cade Thain carefully put his whiskey glass down and glanced up at the woman before him. “And what’s that?” His hands flattened on the old, wooden table.
She sat down and leaned toward him. Her hair was blond, her skin a sun-kissed gold. And her eyes—they were the coldest blue he’d ever seen in his life. “You’re a werewolf.”
He laughed, the sound deep and loud.
Her jaw tightened. “And you’re an assassin.”
Cade kept the smile on his face. “Lady, you’re crazy.”
“No, I’m not.” A thread of anger—no, that thread was far closer to fury—rumbled beneath her words. “I’m here to hire you.”
Cade glanced to the left. To the right. In this pit of hell that passed for a bar in some hole-in-the-wall Oregon town, no one was paying any attention to anyone. Or anything. “You’ve got the wrong man,” he said slowly.
Her gaze searched his face. “Not too many men have scars like yours.” And that icy stare had locked on the scar that slipped from his right eyebrow all the way down to his jaw. Another scar sliced around his neck. There were more, so many more, hidden beneath his clothes. “Cut you with silver, didn’t they?” she asked softly. “When you were so young that you could barely heal.”
Fuck, yeah, they had. His back was covered with long, twisting scars. Wounds administered by sick pricks that Cade had personally sent to burn. Cade had been fourteen when he made those kills.
His first, not his last.
“Werewolf…” She breathed the title. “I’ve got a vamp for you to slay.”
Now the lady had his full attention. He dropped the act and focused totally on her.
Vampires had been the ones to torture him. To destroy his family. His pack. They’d introduced him to hell.
Made him into the monster that he was today.
She leaned closer. Her scent—already too strong for someone with his enhanced senses—surrounded him. A bitter scent, heavy with incense. A witch. The scent of their spells always clung to them.
His would-be-client told him, “The vamp’s name is Allison Gray, and she’ll be such easy prey, especially for someone like you.”
Her fingers slid over to touch his hands. His claws weren’t out—not yet. Not yet. “Why do you want the vamp dead?” Dade demanded to know
Hell, vamps were already dead. They only kept living by draining their prey. Feeding on them.
Like they fed on me.
Parasites.
“She’s a pureblood.”
Shit. Now the witch was talking some serious power. Most vampires were made the old-fashioned way—they were humans who were bit, drained, and brought back as vampires. But a pureblood? Purebloods were extra strong because they were born as vampires.
Lucky for the rest of the world, most purebloods were rare. Otherwise, hell would be calling on earth every damn night.
But killing a pureblood? “That’ll cost you extra,” he warned.
Her smile didn’t make her eyes appear any warmer. Beautiful, but the witch was stone cold. “I’ll pay you one hundred thousand dollars.”
Paranormal hits were never cheap—or easy. “Make it two.”
Her eyes narrowed.
He offered her his own, cold smile. “And I’ll want the cash up front, before I take my prey.”
The witch hesitated.
“You can always go find someone else.” Total bullshit. There weren’t any other werewolves in this part of the U.S. And when it came to vamp killin’, no one got the job done better than a wolf.
The witch would know that.
She nodded. “Done.” Then she eased back, licking her lips. “But you have to do it fast, before the next full moon.”
Five days away. Werewolves always knew exactly when the next full moon would rise. They were at their strongest when the full moon hung in the sky.
Her fingers drummed on the table. “And you have to make it hurt.”
Killing a vamp? Torturing her? Cade shrugged. For two hundred grand… “Done.”
His conscience had
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