She felt restless and on edge. As if there was a looming thunderstorm and she was about to be struck by lightning.
Telling herself it was nothing more than frustration with Caine and the mysterious games that were being played around her, she yanked open the door and stepped outside.
What she needed was a walk.
And if that didn’t work, then there was always cheesecake in the fridge.
There was nothing in the world that couldn’t be cured by cheesecake.
Chapter Two
Salvatore crouched in the bushes and studied the large home that was stuck in the middle of nowhere.
Like most colonial homes, it had a lot of bricks and fluted columns, with a double row of tall windows that would give a vampire nightmares. There was a large front terrace with a sweeping drive that was lined by oak trees, and a covered pool behind the four-car garage.
A nice crib for a mere cur, but Salvatore’s interest wasn’t in architecture.
Instead, he tested the late spring air, futilely attempting to ignore the pervasive scent of vanilla that seeped through his body like the finest aphrodisiac, and concentrated on the bastard who had dared to try to kidnap him.
He might have escaped, but he wasn’t the forgive-and-forget type.
“The cur’s inside,” he said.
“Holy cow.” Levet flapped his wings, standing on tiptoe to glance over the bush. “Do you pay all your curs like AIG executives or do the lunatic fringe receive special bonuses?”
Salvatore’s retort died on his lips as the door was suddenly pushed open and a female pureblood stepped into the night.
She was stunningly familiar. As one of quadruplets, she possessed her sisters’ pale blond hair and slender body. A body that was deliciously revealed by her stretchy shorts and tiny bit of spandex that passed as a top. He would also bet his Rolex her eyes were a perfect emerald.
But that’s where the similarity ended.
Both her sisters, Darcy and Regan, possessed the electric energy of all Weres. But this woman. Cristo, he could feel her vibrant power charging the air a half mile away.
His wolf stirred beneath his skin, straining to be closer to the female that called to him at his most primitive level.
“Salvatore?” Levet snapped his fingers in front of Salvatore’s eyes. “Helllooo. Anyone home?”
“Don’t bother me, gargoyle,” Salvatore growled.
“You promised you would find the cur’s lair and then we would wait for…” The three-foot pest sucked in a sharp breath as he at last caught sight of the woman strolling toward a marble fountain. “Oh. Darcy’s sister.”
“Si.”
“Salvatore, you are not going to do something stupid, are you?” Levet stomped his foot as Salvatore rose and stepped around the bush. “Mon Dieu. Why do I even ask? Of course you are going to do something stupid. And who do you suppose is the one who is going to get hurt? Moi. That is who.”
“Return to the bushes,” Salvatore snapped, his attention never wavering from the woman who had suddenly stiffened and turned in his direction.
“Do you never watch horror films, stupide?” Levet squeaked. “It is always the one who stays behind who Jason or Freddie or Michael Myers chops in half.”
Salvatore made a Herculean effort to ignore his companion as he slid forward. The female had sensed his presence and was preparing to bolt.
That was unacceptable.
And not just because he’d been searching for her for the past thirty years.
Hell, that was at the very bottom of the list.
Way below getting her na**d and into the nearest bed.