Crave the Night by Sharon Ashwood, Michele Hauf, Patti O'Shea, Lori Devoti

had won and he had lost and that Lila was
free.
    Masterson looked away first.
    “ I’m afraid it does end here,”
Rosemund said with a smile that reminded Rafe more of Darak than
the Tooth Fairy. The other sister—Rafe had heard Lila call her
Arabelle—had already resumed her gargoyle shape.
    “ Are you taking him back to his media
event?” Rafe asked dryly.
    “ I wouldn’t have him miss that for the
world,” Rosemund replied. “I’m astonished by the speed human
communications travel. It seems word has already spread to a nest
of vampires in Florida who have a bone to pick with Mr. Masterson.
They are most eager to speak with him about another past real
estate deal once his time in front of the cameras is done. Of
course, the fey of Gilden Wood are pleased to supply
transportation.”
    The man groaned. The fey laughed in a way
that made Rafe glad he was on their side. In another moment, two
gargoyles were flapping away, Masterson in tow.
    Alone again, at
last
.
    “ So.” He turned to Lila, cupping her
face in his hands. “I guess there’s no need to die anytime
soon.”
    His words were light, but he felt solemn.
They’d escaped disaster by a whisker. He kissed her gently, hoping
it would blossom into more very soon.
    She was crying, moonlit tears silvering her
cheeks. A fine trembling had taken her, the aftermath of shock and
fear and relief. “You stormed into my house, Rafe Devries, a wolf
bent on defeating me. You could not best me with fang or claw, but
your kind and clever heart has made me surrender. Do with me what
you will.”
    Rafe allowed himself a lazy smile. “I
just see you for who you are, and I like what I see, my
belle dame sans merci
.” He kissed
her lightly on the forehead. She was anything but the merciless
siren of the poem. She was a champion. A woman. His lover. “You
can’t hide from a wolf.”
    “ Why not?” she laughed, her green eyes
filled with the light of happiness, and the beginnings of a
mischievous twinkle.
    “ We’re not afraid of pickle
forks.”
    Her joy turned to profound bewilderment. She
wrinkled her nose. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
    Rafe grinned. It was nice to be the one
sowing confusion for a change. “I think we might have a future,
Lila Wilding.”
    ###
     

 
One Soul To Share

    Lori Devoti
     

Chapter One, One Soul To Share
    The bar was dirtier and darker than any dive
Nolan Moore had ever entered, even on a dare. Smoke clouded the
air, shrouding the bar's patrons and decor, but Nolan could smell
the humans, each and every one, and hear them...hear the beat of
each of their hearts and the whoosh of every breath as it exited
their lungs.
    His nostrils flared, and his hands fisted.
He didn't want to know that the man on his right, drinking beer
from a chipped glass mug, had a heart valve that was close to
failing. He didn't want to know that the woman that man was
standing close to had slept with someone other than the man, only
hours earlier.
    But, damn, his vampire senses, he did.
    The man with the damaged valve moved his
hand to the woman's ass and whispered in her ear. She giggled and
rubbed against him.
    Nolan, teeth grinding together, turned away
and stalked deeper into the stink, heat and sound until he wanted
to spin in circles and growl, become the monster his family already
thought he'd become.
    "Stranger." A man standing behind the bar, a
short grizzled type with weathered skin and battered features, laid
a revolver onto the wooden bar in front of Nolan. On the back of
the man's hand was a tattoo of an eye—the evil eye. Nolan glanced
at it, unimpressed.
    His fingers curling around the gun's butt,
the bartender asked, "What or who are you looking for?"
    Straight to business, which suited Nolan
fine. The sooner he was out of the stifling stench of the bar the
better.
    "I need a guide, one that knows the sea. I
heard this was the place to come."
    The bartender's index finger twitched, less
than a millimeter of movement, but the