So it could. The blood of paranormals always seemed to pulse with power. And she would love to have more power before she faced off against Latham but… “If I take more from you, then you’ll just grow weak before the fight.”

A muscle flexed along his jaw. “Not if you give me your blood, too.”

An exchange. To make them both stronger. Yes, they needed it, but for some reason, when he asked for her blood, it made her feel…used.

So she narrowed her eyes and told him, “The first time I fucked you, I did it because I wanted to make Latham angry. I wanted him to catch your scent on me. I wanted him to know that I was giving my body to someone else.” Anyone else. Not just—

Jamie shook his head. “When you lie, a faint line appears right…” He tapped his finger between her brows. “Here.”

Iona was so shocked she almost fell onto her ass. As it was, she barely managed to keep crouching next to him without lunging for the jerk. “I’m not lying!” She was the Blood Queen. Like she’d have some easy tell that gave away her lies.

He stroked the spot between her brows. “There it is again.”

Sonofabitch. She had a tell. All these centuries, and no one had mentioned it to her before? Wonderful.

“Don’t worry,” he said as if reading her mind, “I doubt anyone else noticed. I just know because I can never seem to take my eyes off you.” His hand fell away. “Just so we’re clear, I made love with you the first time because I wanted you more than I wanted breath. That’s the same reason I did the second time, too. And the reason I’ll do it every chance I get.”

Arrogant wolf. “I did want to piss off Latham.” But…more…Time for her truth. “I also just wanted you.”

His eyes seemed to darken.

“Is that what you needed to hear?” She demanded, angry. “That you could make the Blood Queen want—”

“I don’t really give a shit about the Blood Queen,” he said, the Irish thickening in his voice. “I care about Iona. She’s the one I want. Not some evil queen who is supposed to give little kids nightmares.”

Nightmares? Really?

“I want to give you my blood now because I want to make sure you’re as strong as you can be. And, no,” he muttered, “you don’t have to give me yours. Just take mine. Just…be strong. I don’t want Latham to ever hurt you again.”

The wolf was sure acting like he actually cared about what happened to her.

And she did need his blood.

Iona lifted his hand to her mouth. Her fangs sank into his wrist, and the image of them—in that horrible room, her on the bed, him leaning over her—flashed in her mind. Then his blood slipped over her tongue—warm, spicy, that delicious taste that was only Jamie—and her eyes locked with his.

She didn’t see calculation in his gaze. No secrets. Just desire.

His power fueled her, heating her body from the inside out. She drank, taking in that wonderful blood and power. Then her tongue licked over his skin as she tried to soothe the small marks that she’d left behind.

Her head lifted. His taste was still in her mouth.

“I’ve never wanted another woman the way I want you.” Gravel-rough, the words seemed torn from him. “And I’ve never met another woman who was so far out of my reach.”

She was less than a foot away from him.

“If I had to do it all over again, I’d find another way to break the spell. I wouldn’t force you to be bound to me.”

She couldn’t help it. Iona laughed at that. Clueless werewolf. “You really think I’m the one being forced?” Her hand lifted and curled under the hard square of his jaw. “I’m over sixteen hundred years old. I can stir fire with a thought. I’m about to turn your brother to ash…” She smiled at him and knew her fangs would flash. “You’re the one who’s going to be forced to stay with me, wolf. Do you actually believe I’d ever let my blood supply get away?”

He blinked.

Men. Always thinking it was all about them.

She shook her head and turned away.

He caught her hand. Held her tight. “Love, the only way I’d ever leave you…you’d have to tell me to leave. Cause otherwise, I’d count myself lucky to be at your side.”

She stilled. Then her heartbeat kicked up in a double-time rhythm. Jamie sounded as if he meant the words. She stared into his eyes and searched for the truth.

He did mean them.

“What do you want from me?” She asked him, barely recognizing the soft voice as her own.

“Everything.” Just as soft, but his words were darker. So deep. “But I’ll start with this…give me a chance. Give us a chance. Let me show you that I’m not just a beast.”

She already knew that.

“Let me show you the man I can be. Let me—” Jamie broke off, his nostrils flaring. Then he spun away from her. “He’s here.”

She hadn’t caught Latham’s scent yet, but she’d take Jamie’s word for it. Her gaze darted to the big wall surrounding the old compound. She saw the dark shadows scaling the stones, climbing over the wall. Coming for us. Iona counted at least a dozen forms.

“Vampires…werewolves…” Jamie’s claws were bursting from his hands as his shift started. “What we…expected…”

Yes, it was. Now it was time to give Latham what he didn’t expect. She barred her throat to Jamie. “Bite.”

His eyes were more beast than man. “You don’t…” He still tried to speak with a man’s voice.

“I want you to drink.”

His hand lifted. His claws seemed to tremble, then he sliced lightly over her skin. His dark head lowered. His tongue rasped over her wound.

She shuddered against him. Her eyes closed. His lips brushed over her. His claws were at her waist, but he was so careful not to hurt her.

Latham had never been careful with anyone or anything.

A shot echoed through the night. She knew the sound had to come from Sean as he took out prey with his silver bullets. Those werewolves fighting with Latham had picked the wrong side.

Their mistake.

Sean had chosen a position of his own on top of the west wall. A position that let him take out his prey as he wanted, picking them off with his silver bullets, one at a time.

“Get away from her!” Latham’s enraged roar. Showtime. “You bastard, that’s my queen!”

Jamie’s tongue licked over her flesh once more. A rough caress. Then he was pulling back. Gazing at her with a gaze that burned with emotions she didn’t want to name. “No,” he said, voice thundering out just as powerfully as his brother’s. “She’s mine.”

Then he whirled toward Latham. The two brothers charged at one another. Shifting werewolves were on the ground, some in pain because silver bullets had ripped into them, some were just contorting from the force of their transformations.

And the vampires who’d sold their loyalty to Latham were there, standing back because they’d caught sight of her. She heard their whispers…

“Blood Queen…”

“She’s back…”

“Back and pissed,” Iona clarified, letting her voice ring out and not glancing over at Latham and Jamie even as the scent of blood deepened in the air. “So come closer, and try to take me down, if you think you’re strong enough.” Then she crooked her index finger at them, daring the fools to come and get her.

Because she needed them closer. They had to be close for her fire to reach them. Just a little closer…

A tall, red-headed vampire made the mistake of lunging for her.

When he was within range of her power, she tossed a ball of fire right at his chest. He hit the ground, screaming and rolling as he tried to put out a fire that just wouldn’t be stopped. Only she could stop those flames. Iona wasn’t in the mood to stop them.

The other vampires froze.

“Who’s next?” Iona challenged.

Bones crunched behind her. More shifting wolves. She turned and saw a big, gray wolf rushing toward her.

A shot thundered out.

The wolf fell, a silver bullet embedded in his spine. There was a shout then, and Iona saw Sean jump down from his position on the wall. He attacked, fighting the wolves that had come for him.

He was fighting—and winning his battle.

Iona’s gaze darted to the right. Sean and Latham weren’t in human form any longer. Two big, fierce black wolves were fighting, tangled in claws and teeth and blood. The wolves—they looked just alike to her. She wasn’t sure which wolf was winning the battle…or which wolf was Jamie.

“I’m next!” A woman’s voice shouted. “And I’m not afraid of that bitch!”

You should be.

The line of vamps parted. A woman rushed forward. A small woman with long, curly, brown hair. She smirked at Iona and fire rose above the woman’s delicate palm. “See? I can do it, too.”

Ah, so this was the new witch that Latham had picked up. Being right felt so good. “I’m not drugged this time.” Iona felt she should point out that little fact.

The witch frowned.

“That’s how Latham’s first witch got the advantage. The drugs in my system slowed me down…” Iona threw her flames at the woman. The witch’s hair caught fire, and the woman screamed as she stumbled back. “I’m not slow now…and lady, I’m a hell of a lot stronger than you!”

The witch—minus a whole lot of hair—ran away, shrieking. Easy enough. Too easy. Must be slim-pickings when it came to magic power these days.

Iona lifted her hands into the air. It was time to send a message to the paranormals out there. She didn’t want to be looking over her shoulder, worried that others would come and hunt her.

They needed to be too afraid to even whisper her name.

Blood Queen. She could be her, again, in order to be free.

“Run,” she ordered the fools still around her. “Or die.” Then she called up the magic inside, letting it whip through her and form a circle of fire, a bright ring that closed around her and the two black wolves that fought a life-or-death battle. Everyone else was on the outside, and the fire snapped out at those vampires and werewolves, attacking with greedy tendrils of flame that ignited flesh and sent shrieks into the night.

Most ran. They would be the ones to spread the new story of the Blood Queen’s rebirth.

As for the ones who didn’t run? The slow? The idiots who still thought they could kill her?

They died.

And then there was only Iona…in the circle with her wolves.

She could kill them both with a thought. Send the fire ripping at them but…

Iona didn’t want Jamie to die. Which wolf?

She needed to see their eyes. Their scents were too linked then—they were too close to each other. There was too much blood. If she could just look into the wolves’ eyes, she’d know her lover.

The claws of one wolf shoved into his opponent’s stomach. A long, mournful howl filled the night. The injured beast heaved on his side and slowly, slowly began to transform.

The fur melted from his body. Familiar, golden flesh emerged once more. She knew the strong line of that jaw. Knew the heavy slash of those cheeks.

The other beast snarled into the air, a cry of fury and dominance. Then the beast turned to face Iona.

Not Jamie’s eyes. But then, she’d already known her lover was the one bleeding out on the ground.

She lifted her hands and tossed as much fire as she could at Latham. She wanted that bastard to burn.

Only, he didn’t burn. The flames just sank into his thick fur and disappeared. Tendrils of smoke drifted into the air.

The snap and crunch of his bones reached her ears. He shifted before her, a fast, brutal shift.

She couldn’t see Jamie’s body behind him. Was Jamie still alive? And why did it feel like someone had ripped out her heart?

“I’ve got so much of your blood pumping in me,” Latham snarled as he closed in on Iona and grabbed her wrists. His hold was rough, too strong, so painful it felt like he was about to break her bones. “Thanks to all that blood, your magic can’t hurt me, Iona. Nothing can anymore.”

The fire sure couldn’t. But she wasn’t about to give up yet. “Then let’s just see what my teeth can do…” And she sank her fangs into his throat.

His blood burned her, going down as hot as acid on her tongue, but she didn’t let him go. She’d drain him, if that was her only way and—

He screamed and pulled away from her.

No, he didn’t pull away. Jamie had snatched Latham back. Because her Jamie wasn’t dead. He was on his feet and he’d spun Latham around to face him…spun him around and, as she watched, Jamie shoved his claws into his brother’s chest.

“She was the distraction,” Jamie whispered as he let his brother stagger away from him. “You should have made sure I was dead.”

Latham’s head swung toward her. He shook his head even as blood pumped from his chest. “I’m…immortal.”

“Not anymore you’re not,” Iona told him. Jamie had been right. Latham was still too fixated on her. Fixated enough to make a fatal mistake.

He’d turned his back on a werewolf who wanted his blood.

Latham’s teeth snapped together. “You won’t…live…without…me!” He rushed toward Iona.

And Jamie’s claws slashed over his brother’s throat even as the thunder of a gun echoed and a bullet slammed into Latham’s chest.

Sean…doing his job and avenging his parents. Overkill could be a good thing.