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Rhage shuffled her behind his body.

“Son of a bitch,” someone said.

One of the men came at Rhage like a tank. His dark hair was clipped into a military brush cut, and Mary had the oddest sense she’d seen him before.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Rhage spread his stance, dropped her bag, and brought his hands up to chest level. “Where’s Wrath?”

“I asked you a question,” the other guy snapped. “What are you doing, bringing her here?”

“I need Wrath.”

“I told you to get rid of her. Or do you expect one of us to do your job?”

Rhage met the man chin-to-chin. “Careful, Tohr. Don’t make me hurt you.”

Mary glanced behind her. The door to the vestibule was still open. And right now waiting in the car while Rhage sorted things out seemed like a really good idea. Stick-together rule notwithstanding.

As she backed away, she kept her eyes on him. Until she bumped against something hard.

She wheeled around. Looked up. And lost her voice.

What was blocking her escape had a scarred face, black eyes, and an aura of stone-cold anger.

Before she could bolt in fear, he took her arm and spun her away from the door.

“Don’t even think about running.” Flashing long fangs, he measured her body. “Funny, you’re not his usual type. But you’re alive and pants-pissing terrified. So you’ll do fine for me.”

Mary screamed.

Every head in the foyer turned. Rhage lunged for her, pulling her away, bringing her tight against his body. He spoke harshly, in the language she didn’t understand.

The scarred man narrowed his eyes. “Easy there, Hollywood. Just keeping your little plaything in the house. You going to share her or be selfish like you usually are?”

Rhage looked as if he were about to lash out when a woman’s voice cut him off.

“Oh, for God’s sake, boys! You’re scaring her.”

Mary glanced around Rhage’s chest and saw a woman coming down the stairway. She looked completely normal: Long black hair, blue jeans, white turtleneck. A black cat was purring like a sewing machine in her arms. As she marched through the thicket of men, they all got out of her way.

“Rhage, we’re glad you made it home safely. And Wrath is coming down in a minute.” She pointed to the room the men had come out of. “The rest of you head back in there. Go on, now. If you’re going to crack some balls, do it on the pool table. Dinner’s in a half hour. Butch, take the football with you, okay?”

She shooed them from the foyer like they weren’t hard-nosed badasses. The only guy who stayed was the one with the brush cut.

He was calmer now as he looked at Rhage. “This is going to have repercussions, my brother.”

Rhage’s face hardened and they broke into their secret language.

The black-haired woman came up to Mary, all the while stroking the cat’s throat. “Don’t worry. Everything’s going to be okay. I’m Beth, by the way. And this is Boo.”

Mary took a deep breath, instinctively trusting this lone feminine outpost in what was a jungle of testosterone.

“Mary. Mary Luce.”

Beth offered her the petting hand and smiled.

More fangs.

Mary felt the floor underneath her shift.

“I think she’s going over,” Beth shouted while reaching forward. “Rhage!”

Strong arms came around her waist as her knees buckled.

The last thing she heard before blacking out was Rhage saying, “I’m taking her up to my room.”

As Rhage laid Mary out on his bed, he willed on a soft light. Oh, God, what had he done, bringing her to the compound?

When she stirred and opened her eyes, he said, “You’re safe here.”

“Yeah, right.”

“I’ll make it safe for you, how about that?”

“Now I believe you.” She smiled a little. “Sorry about going over like I did. I’m not usually a fainter.”

“It’s perfectly understandable. Look, I have to go meet with my brothers. You see that steel lock on the door? I’m the only one who has a key, so you’ll be secure here.”

“Those guys were not happy to see me.”

“That’s their problem.” He brushed her hair back, tucking it behind both her ears. He wanted to kiss her, but stood up instead.

She looked so right in his big bed, nestled in the