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Contents
Cover
Title Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Copyright
Endpages
Chapter One
“She’s a what?” Lazlo Brennan stared at his fellow detectives. He’d expected a bit of good-natured ribbing on his first day of the job, but this?
“Erika Cenov is a psychic,” Detective Rok Skerkis repeated. “Believe me, I’m telling you the truth.”
Suppressing a sigh, Lazlo glanced at the perfectly serious expressions on the faces of the three men with whom he was sharing a cup of bad coffee in the police department break room.
“Why do you say she’s a psychic?” he asked warily. None of the detectives were shape-shifters or Pack, so he supposed this was their idea of ribbing the new guy. Any minute now, they’d throw out the punch line and have a good laugh at his expense.
Instead, the other men started talking about Erika’s dreams—premonitions of death—and a curse.
This last part was what caused him to finally shake his head. “That’s ridiculous. I dated her in high school. She wasn’t a psychic then, or cursed.”
“You’ve been gone ten years,” Rok pointed out. “She came into her powers when she turned twenty-one.”
Seven years ago. Swallowing a gulp of bitter brew, Lazlo grimaced. He started to wonder if the punch line he was expecting wasn’t going to materialize. “And you know this how?”
“She told us,” another detective, James or Jimmy something, chimed in. “She’s helped us find several missing persons. Unfortunately, they were deceased by the time we located them, but still…”
“Deceased?” Placing his chipped cup on the table, Lazlo scratched his head, uncomfortable now. This had gone too far, even if he had known them all since high school. “Come on, guys. Enough’s enough.”
Rok narrowed his eyes. “We aren’t messing with you. Erika dreams and people die. At first we thought she might be a serial killer or something, but we checked her out.”
“She has the second sight,” another officer put in.
After a decade in New York, he’d forgotten how superstitious the old country could be. Like neighboring Croatia, Teslinko might be a modernized country, but the old ways lingered. Which was why those who were Pack members, like him, had to be very careful not to shape-shift where humans might see. The last time that had happened, several hundred years in the past, the townspeople had panicked. Amid cries of “Werewolves!” they’d armed themselves with pitchforks and tried to burn the shifters out. Fire was one of only two things that could kill a full-blooded shifter, so several Pack members had perished.
Since then, the Pack took stringent measures to ensure humans had no idea shape-shifters lived in their midst. These days, while some shifters mated with humans, resulting in half-shifter offspring known as Halflings, Lazlo’s family did not. They were proud of their pure family line, dating back centuries. His father had often declared that no human would ever learn about shifters from a Brennan.
Considering what Lazlo knew of the supernatural, he considered it ironic that the humans believed in Erika Cenov’s purported abilities and he didn’t. Maybe because he’d grown up with her. The down-to-earth girl he’d spent all of his childhood with was about as far from a clairvoyant as one could get. She’d been serious, even in high school, grounded in her studies and her love of nature. Psychic mumbo-jumbo hadn’t even been a blip on her radar.
When his desk phone rang, Lazlo sat up straight. Finally, his first call as a Teslinko Police Department detective.
Answering, he listened carefully before placing the phone back in its cradle. A missing child. He swore.
“Yeah,” Rok said softly. He stood directly in front of Lazlo’s desk. “I just got the same call. The captain wants us to go to the parents’ house. Someone broke in through the window in the middle of the night and stole the kid. We’ve got to find her.”
The dreams had always been the same. Blood and death and destruction, with little variance. Until now. Erika Cenov moved restlessly, trying to force herself to wake, to open her eyes and break the spell.
At last, she bolted upright, her breathing harsh and heavy. Death dreams, though blessedly rare, always felt identical. Though her grandmother had called this a gift, Erika bore it as a curse, this ability to see someone else’s death. She felt guilty, as if she were to blame. Would the faceless victims have died if she hadn’t dreamed it?
But tonight’s dream had been crazy. She’d seen her old boyfriend, the one who’d gotten away with her heart. Lazlo Brennan. He’d moved from Teslinko to New York right after graduation. And now it appeared his life would come to an end, here in Teslinko. A violent, horrible end. And soon.
Heart pounding, she tried to make sense of her vision. As usual, there’d been blood and terror and…death. Lazlo had been shot, which was not all that remarkable—she’d seen that happen to others in her dreams before.
But a few things had been different from her previous dreams. For the first time, she’d been a bystander in her own dream. And she’d been the cause of Lazlo’s demise. Which didn’t make sense. She hadn’t seen him in a decade. Lazlo was thousands of miles away, on another continent.
And another difference—there’d been other people in her vision. The dreams usually starred only the person whose life was about to end. This time she’d seen a man abducting a child. And more. Wild animals. A pack of them. Wolves.
Oh, but the final variance…
Feeling sick, she shook her head. Throwing back the thin cotton sheet, she got up. The cool ceramic tile beneath her bare feet grounded and calmed her somewhat, but her heart still raced.
Though her visions were never wrong, this dream had to be a fluke. Lazlo’s presence didn’t add up. And then there was the sheer weirdness of what she’d seen. Even for someone like her, used to crazy dreams and visions, it was beyond belief. Because not only had she caused the death of a man she’d once thought she’d love forever, but she’d watched him become a wolf.
Proof positive that this particular dream was wrong, she thought, trying to force herself not to trust her own visions, which up till now had been surefire. For once, what she’d seen would not come true.
A werewolf. Right. Death dreams and curses were bad enough. Considering the possibility that werewolves might exist? If she let herself believe in something like that, she might as well admit herself to the hospital for psychiatric evaluation. Lazlo had always been a bit more reckless than the other boys, but a streak of wildness didn’t mean he was a…freak.
The instant she thought the word, she chided herself. After all, many people here in town had called her the same or worse, just because of a little psychic ability. She’d learned the hard way never to judge others.
Sniffing, she headed toward the shower, wondering what quirk of her mind had made her think of Lazlo Brennan. The last time she’d seen him, they’d been eighteen and high-school sweethearts, in love. Then he’d left her and Teslinko for the greener shores of America without even saying goodbye. He’d broken her heart.
As she was eating breakfast, her phone rang. It was the Teslinko police chief, asking for her help. A child had gone missing; they suspected the four-year-old girl had been kidnapped. And they needed Erika’s help to find her.
Erika’s stomach clenched. Of course. Her dreams never lied. Though this time, more than any other, she’d have given anything to be wrong.
“Let’s go,” Lazlo said to his partner, his adrenaline already shifting into high gear as he headed for the door of the squad room. The heartbreaking—and crucial—task of talking to the parents of a victim was one peace officers dreaded. Most often, things were exactly as they seemed, with the parents frantic for the return of their child.
Sometimes though, it was worse. Lazlo had worked one case where the father had turned out to be the monster who’d tortured and killed his son. Lazlo never wanted to work another like that.
Catching up to him, Rok pointed out his unmarked department vehicle. “You should know that they’ve called in Erika Cenov to help.”
Climbing into the car and starting to drive, Lazlo glanced at Rok in disbelief. “Are you serious?”
“Yes. I wasn’t making that stuff up. Your old girlfriend is a psychic. The captain said she already had a dream. Maybe she can find little Katya Holson.”
Lazlo let the remark about Erika being a psychic slide and concentrated on the child. Katya Holson. Age four.
Numerous members of the Teslinko police department were already at work at the Holsons’. Yellow crime scene tape blocked off one side of the square clapboard house.
A uniformed officer met them as they got out of the car. “Mr. and Mrs. Holson are waiting inside. Erika Cenov is with them.”
Rok shot Lazlo an I told you so look and strode ahead. Lazlo followed, a bit more slowly.
Erika. He’d never been able to exorcise her from his heart.
He’d loved her once, with a passion so all-consuming it had terrified an eighteen-year-old still trying to come to terms with the fact that his girlfriend—and the woman his wolf had once foolishly considered his mate—was human rather than Pack.
Something about Erika’s aura was different enough that when they’d first started dating he’d harbored the hope she might be a Halfling. But he’d soon learned her difference had nothing to do with any shifter blood—in hindsight, perhaps it had to do with her unexplored psychic potential, assuming he believed in that. Whatever the reason for her aura, Erika was human.
When he’d realized that fact, Lazlo had kept it a secret, knowing his family’s prejudice against non-shifters would mean an end to his relationship with Erika if they found out she was human. But his father had ultimately discovered the truth. He’d gone ballistic.
While numerous shifters married humans, his father had forbidden it. Right before Lazlo’s graduation, the head of the Brennan household had extracted a promise from his only son. Unwilling to disappoint the man who’d raised him as a single parent, Lazlo had given his word. To uphold the honor of his family, he would only marry a full-blood shifter. He would not be the one to dilute their long, unbroken line.
Which meant, of course, that he could not have Erika. Unable to say goodbye to her, he’d simply left, going as far away as he could.
He’d often wondered what had become of her, but he hadn’t planned on running into her in the middle of a crime scene. Or that she would be the police department’s official…psychic.
Assuming he believed in such things—and as a shape-shifter he knew anything was possible—would Erika’s new abilities mean she’d be able to see into the deepest part of him and know the secret he’d kept from her all these years? Would she be horrified? He told himself it didn’t matter; his vow had ensured there could never be anything between them.
No matter what his wolf wanted.
Chapter Two
Realizing he’d see Erika again put every one of Lazlo’s nerves on edge. His wolf, slumbering until now, was alert, as well. In the years since he’d left, no other woman had evoked even the slightest interest from his lupine nature. Since wolves only mated once, this in itself made him uneasy. Would it still be the same? Would the part of him that was wolf still try to claim her as mate? And if so, would he have the strength to resist that part of himself…or her?
A child was missing, Lazlo reminded himself fiercely. He had to put any personal feelings aside and do his damndest to ensure that she was returned home unharmed. If Erika really could help, so be it. If not, she’d better keep out of the way.
The parents of the missing child were seated side by side on a faded, well-used blue couch. Mrs. Holson had been weeping, her nose bright red and her eyes swollen. She gripped her husband’s hand so tightly her knuckles gleamed white. They appeared to be genuinely terrified.
He spared a brief glance at the slender woman seated in the chair opposite them, his analytical mind processing and storing details. As his eyes locked on her, he found he couldn’t move his gaze away. Erika Cenov looked remarkably similar to the eighteen-year-old girl he remembered, though she’d blossomed into a lovely woman. She wore her hair—still blond, still straight—in a casual ponytail.
She raised her eyes to meet his, and he had to throttle the dizzying charge that jolted through him. The part of him that was wolf wanted to howl; the human man knew better.
Dragging his eyes away from Erika, he focused on the distraught couple. They stared at Erika with the kind of wild hope reserved for miracle workers.
Rok took the lead asking questions. Lazlo simply watched and listened and tried to avoid glancing at Erika. He could feel her gaze every time it touched on him, light as a feather.
Even worse, his wolf had begun to battle him, wanting to take over, wanting her with an intensity both familiar and appalling. At eighteen, he’d found this craving for her—and what it meant—terrifying. Now it was even more unsettling.
But a Brennan never went back on his word. Even though his father had been killed a few years ago in a cabin fire while on a hunting trip with friends, his death did not release Lazlo from his vow.
Erika and Lazlo could never be together. This harsh truth had been the reason he’d left Teslinko, fleeing something so strong it had threatened to overwhelm him. He’d known he didn’t have the strength to resist her then. Now, with ten years between them, he’d believed he’d be stronger, his feelings for her weaker. Obviously, he’d been wrong.
For the first time since returning home, Lazlo wished he’d stayed in Leaning Tree, New York. The town nestled within the rolling hills of the Catskills had reminded him of Teslinko, minus the presence of the sea. He’d adapted well there, though the homesickness had never entirely gone away. Nor had his longing for a woman he could never have.
But, he reminded himself, he was no longer a weak, indecisive teenager. He was a grown man now and could deal with whatever issues life threw his way.
Mrs. Holson began sobbing loudly. Her husband put his arm around her and pulled her close.
“I think they’ve had enough for today,” Erika said, her soft voice making Lazlo’s wolf sit up and take instant notice.
He waited for Rok to order her to butt out—civilians had no place in a police investigation—but to his surprise, his partner simply nodded.
“Tell them about your dream,” Rok directed Erika.
Lazlo stared.
Mrs. Holson began to wail louder. Her husband clutched at Erika’s arm, his expression anguished. “Please tell us you did not dream of Katya’s death.”
“I did not,” Erika soothed, taking the man’s hand in hers. “But I did see who took her.”
Lazlo watched hope once again blossom on the parents’ faces, and he admired Erika’s empathy; it reminded him of the girl he’d once loved.
Lazlo had had enough. “Come on,” he said, jerking his chin toward the door to indicate Rok should follow.
Appearing reluctant, Rok touched Erika’s shoulder on his way out. “Erika, please call if you dream anything else.”
“I will,” she promised.
Lazlo glanced at Erika and his chest tightened. Anticipating his wolf, he clamped down on all his emotions and suppressed the urge to shake his head.
Once they were outside, Lazlo rounded on his partner. “I can’t believe you allowed that nonsense. She raised those poor people’s hopes.”
“With good cause. She’s helped us many times before, with incredible accuracy, though disappointing results. With Katya, though, the stakes are much higher.” Rok sighed. “If Erika’s going to help us, she’d better damn well hurry.”
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