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  Better to be alone.

  Count on no one but himself and the other Guardians. But she smelled sweet. Fresh.

  Alive.

  The floral shampoo she used clung to her seductively and he wondered if her skin would taste as good as she smelled. Her high, full breasts rose and fell quickly with her agitated breathing and her eyes seemed to get bigger, wider, as she watched him.

  Did she sense the connection between them?

  Could she have any idea at all about what was to come?

  “Who are you?” she asked quietly, her whisper almost swallowed by the noise drifting to them from the adjacent room.

  Who was he? An interesting question. Guardian? Warrior? Knight? Too many answers and not enough time.

  He took a step closer, and she moved too, backing up until she bumped into the kitchen counter behind her. She jolted in surprise and dropped the carton of ice cream to the floor.

  She couldn’t know. Couldn’t even imagine the world he moved through. His gaze locked with hers, Kieran moved in even closer, dipping his head, letting her fill him with scents that drugged him, that poured through him like rich wine.

  His heartbeat thundered in his chest.

  He had no time for this. And yet, he knew he couldn’t leave her without one taste. Since he first saw her photo, he’d known this moment would come—now, he wouldn’t waste it. Cupping her cheeks between his palms, he took her mouth, intending only a brief, hard kiss that would assuage the sudden, all-encompassing need raging within. But one brush of her lips to his and he was lost.

  She sighed into his mouth and her lips opened for him. His tongue swept into her depths and he felt himself drowning in the heat of her. Senses overloading, his body felt engulfed in flames. She sighed again and the soft sound spiraled through him like knives, tearing through a centuries old apathy as if it were fragile silk.

  Her breasts pressed to his chest, he felt the thundering beat of her heart as if it were his own. It shuddered through him, pounding in his head, his blood.

  She dropped the spoon and it clattered on the tile floor like a warning bell.

  Kieran groaned, let her go and reluctantly stepped away, willing his body into quiet. The instinct to take her was strong, nearly overpowering. She trembled, eyes wide, and he wanted to lay her down on the floor and lose himself in the heat of her.

  “Wow,” she said softly, “you’re really good at that.”

  He rubbed one hand across his mouth and refused to admit he was shaking. He had no time for this. No time to be distracted by something he wasn’t going to claim anyway.

  He wasn’t here for her.

  Exactly.

  Kieran had followed the scent of his prey to this house. All day, he’d hunted it, always a step or two behind. Tracking the elusive trace energy signature all demons left in their wake. Now, it seemed that Fate had taken a turn in the hunt. Why else would the beast he sought have come here?

  To her house?

  The power of the beast throbbed in the air, its hunger, its desire pulsing wildly and it amazed Kieran anew that the mortals couldn’t sense it. Somewhere in this house, the demon moved freely, already on the hunt, deciding who it would kill and when.

  And he was the only man who could stop it.

  2

  “Y ou still haven’t answered me,” she said, voice tight, eyes wide. “Who are you?”

  “Kieran MacIntyre.” His name, nothing else. She didn’t need to know more. Hell, she didn’t need to know his name. He wouldn’t be seeing her again if he could help it.

  Her eyes went wide and flashed with excitement. “You’re MacIntyre?”

  “Yes.”

  “The man of mystery?” she continued and he could almost see her mind whirling behind her eyes. “The reclusive philanthropist, Kieran MacIntyre? Seriously?”

  “And you’re Julie Carpenter. A reporter.”

  Those amazing emerald eyes narrowed briefly. “How do you know that?”

  “When you try to arrange interviews,” he countered, “do you actually believe you’re not being checked out in return?”

  “Oh.” She nodded then said, “Okay then, that makes sense. And here you are. Isn’t this a happy coincidence? You, here, I mean. With me.” She practically scrubbed her palms together in eagerness.

  “I’m not here for an interview.”

  “Doesn’t mean we can’t do one.”

  “Yes,” he said shortly. “It does.”

  There was no time to waste. Not with her. A distraction was something he couldn’t afford at the moment. Even one so tempting as she. Hunger raged and warred with the instinctive knowledge that he was wasting time. The hunt was all that mattered. A century and a half ago, he’d found the demon. And he’d done it without having a Mate by his side. Now, he would do it again.

  He could hardly look at her, though, without wanting her. Her mouth was red and swollen from the kiss that he was trying to forget. He’d be damned forever if he let his desires make his decisions for him. Hell, doing just that is what had gotten him killed in the first place. Bending down, Kieran snatched up the ice cream and the spoon. As he straightened, the edge of his coat slipped back.

  “Is that a sword?” Her voice yipped on that last word and he saw fear glint in her eyes.

  “Bugger.” He shot her a quick look, tossed the ice cream and spoon onto the counter, then tugged his coat back into place. “Whatever you’re thinking, you’re wrong.”

  “Sure. Of course.” She nodded. “Gazillionaire swordsman. No big. Happens every day. In Bizarro World.”

  He saw her thoughts wheeling through her brain and easily read the agitation in her eyes. Frustration coursed through him. He’d come to this house following a trail—and because he’d worried she might be in danger. Now, she was clearly imagining herself in danger from him. Why the hell had she shown up in his life? This should have been a simple hunt. Locate his prey, incapacitate it, move on.

  But nothing was as it should be.

  “I don’t have time to explain,” he muttered and moved away from her. Easier to think if he couldn’t inhale her scent.

  She practically leaped toward the phone hanging on the wall opposite the refrigerator. With the receiver in her hand and her finger on the number nine, she said, “Make time, sparky. Give me one good reason I shouldn’t dial 911.”

  In one long stride, he was beside her, wrenching the phone from her hand and hanging it up. Damn telephones. Ever since their invention, things had been harder for Kieran and his kind. Too easy for witnesses to call the police—or worse, some tabloid.

  “Because,” he said, keeping one hand on the phone so she couldn’t grab it again, “the police will only confuse things further.”

  She snorted. “Most criminals would say that.”

  “I’m not a criminal.”

  “Most criminals would say that, too.” She yanked at her hand, trying to get free, which only convinced him to hold her tighter. She winced and said, “So what’s your deal? Is the whole philanthropy thing a front? Or maybe you just like to dress up and scare people?”

  “Damn it woman…” His fingers coiled tighter around her wrist.

  “Let go of me, you psycho.”

  Fragile bones beneath smooth, hot skin. His thumb moved over her flesh, distracting her momentarily from the fear still dancing in her eyes. Kieran met her gaze and held it, focusing his power on convincing her that she was safe. “You have nothing to fear from me.”

  Instead of being soothed as he’d expected, the woman glared at his hand, still holding her wrist. At last, he let her go and she rubbed the spot where his fingers had been. Savoring his touch? Or trying to erase it?

  “You’re carrying a sword and you expect me to take your word for anything?” She slipped out from under the close press of his body and took a step or two to one side. “Who carries a sword, for God’s sake?”

  “Don’t try to run,” he warned softly. “I’ll catch you.”

  She sagged ag
ainst the counter. “You probably would. Fine. I won’t run. Just…get out.”

  He stared at her. “If you’re thinking of writing a story about this—you should know my lawyers will make that impossible.”

  “You come into my house wearing a sword, breaking my wrist and you’re gonna sue me?”

  “I didn’t break your wrist,” he said and heard the barely banked anger in his own voice.

  “Came close.”

  “Woman,” he muttered, wishing he were somewhere fighting a demon to the death. It would have been easier than dealing with her. “There is more going on here than you know.”

  “I’m getting that,” she said, scowling at him.

  He watched her, couldn’t stop watching her if truth be told. Despite her fear of him, she held her ground. She lifted her chin and looked directly into his eyes, with the strength of a warrior. And this Kieran understood. Respected.

  For centuries, he’d wandered the earth. He’d seen the worst of humanity and the best. He’d battled demons and men with the same single-minded determination. He’d been with women who quailed at the sight of him yet yearned for the taste of danger to add spice to sex. But never had he met the one woman who could reach him. The one woman who might, if old tales could be believed, be his salvation.

  Even the thought of the word choked him. There was no salvation for those like him. The most he could hope for was another battle to follow the last. To move on through the years, untouched by time, able to adjust the memories of those whose lives he brushed up against so that he remained unremembered.

  This he knew. This he expected.

  She was a surprise.

  Her green eyes fixed on him, he could sense her thoughts, the wild clashing of instinct and desire. She trembled and the strength of her need was as powerful as the fear darting through her. Before he could think better of it, he attempted something he suspected

  —hoped—had no chance of success.

  You are safe from me, woman.

  She jolted away from the counter and shot him a look that was both intrigued and horrified. “How did you do that? Talk to me in my head? How could I hear you? What’s going on?”

  Kieran plowed one hand through his hair, scraping his short, neat nails across his scalp, hoping the minor irritation would distract him from the mess this was quickly becoming. She shouldn’t have been able to hear him. Shouldn’t have reacted at all. The fact that she had, shook him to the core. “I’m telepathic.”

  “Ah…” She nodded jerkily and inched closer to the swinging door leading into the party, still barreling along at top volume. She slid one hand across the tiles as if to steady her movements. “Well, that explains everything. A telepathic swordsman. Fabulous. Lucky me.”

  “Stop.”

  She did. As if he’d fired a bullet at her feet.

  Going to her, he grabbed her upper arms and pulled her tightly to him. Her breath left her in a rush as her breasts slammed against his chest.

  “I’ll scream,” she warned.

  “No, you won’t.”

  “Why wouldn’t I?”

  “Because you know I won’t hurt you.”

  She took a couple of short breaths and squirmed against him in a way that made him wish for more time. Her hips collided with his need, thick and hard and every twist of movement was glorious torture.

  “I don’t even know you, why would I trust you?”

  “There’s no reason you should. But you do.” His mind reached for hers and in that tumultuous well of sensation and emotion, he soothed her with gentle whispers.

  “Stop doing that,” she demanded, but quit trying to escape his iron grip.

  “It’s creepy having someone else sneaking through my brain.”

  “I am no happier about it than you.”

  Questions boiled in his mind and were just as quickly smothered. He had no time for legends. No time to explore the new territory in front of him. Julie Carpenter had no place in his life nor he in hers. She was an accident. A twist of fate, a distraction thrown in front of him to keep him from his prey.

  Damned if it wasn’t working.

  Through the fabric of her shirt, her skin felt soft, pliant. He wanted to drown in the taste of her, take her scent deep inside him. He wanted to lick every inch of her body and when he was finished, he would begin again. He wanted to fill his hands with the weight of her breasts, suckle at her rigid nipples until she was writhing beneath him, begging for the orgasm only he could provide. And when her body trembled on the very brink, he would join his body to hers, filling her with heat, until, together, they were swallowed by the flames.

  Still he let her go, pushing her from him, as if needing the distance between them. He hadn’t expected her to hear him telepathically. Only a true Mate could do that. Only a woman destined to be at a Guardian’s side could be touched by his thoughts. It had been a test he’d thought she would fail. Hoped she would fail.

  But she hadn’t and now Kieran was a man with even more to consider. He took another step back. The cold, solid length of the sword he carried slapped against his side, reminding him all too well of his true purpose here.

  Gleefully, eagerly, it wandered the old house.

  The music swelled within it, dancing through its veins, pounding in its head. Hunger roared within, demanding release.

  So many choices.

  It moved through the crowd, unnoticed in the throng, its fingers trailing across lush bodies, its hot breath dusting sweat dampened skin, its hands longing for a blade.

  Soon, it thought.

  Soon the blood would run, thick and dark.

  Soon, the hunt would begin again.

  Behind them, the kitchen door slammed open, allowing in a blast of music and the shouted conversations and laughter of the party. Julie looked past the broad-shouldered man in front of her to the blond woman grinning at her from the doorway.

  “Julie! You’re with a guy! Yay you!” Instantly she slapped one hand across her mouth and winced. “I said that out loud, didn’t I?”

  “Oh, yeah,” Julie said, her chin hitting her chest. Trust Alicia to come into the room at exactly the wrong moment. Or was it the right moment? Julie wasn’t sure anymore.

  “Sorry about that,” the other woman said with an embarrassed shrug.

  “Too much wine, I think.”

  “It’s okay.” Giving her roommate a wry smile, she realized that she should actually be relieved that the smiling blonde had barged in. So why wasn’t she? Good question, she thought and searched for the answer.

  A few months ago, she’d tried every trick she knew to get an interview with L.A.’s own mystery gazillionaire. She hadn’t been able to worm her way through his guard dogs—lawyers. Now here he was—big as life, a hell of a kisser, and hey, possibly nuts—in her very own kitchen. She didn’t even know what to think of him. Gorgeous, sure. Lust worthy, without a doubt. But what kind of man carries a sword and tiptoes through other people’s minds?

  By all rights, she should be terrified just being alone with him. Yet, the only thing she was really worried about here was her virtue—which, let’s face it had disappeared a long time ago.

  Besides, if Kieran MacIntyre had wanted to kill her, he could have done it when his tongue was down her throat. She shivered at the memory and squelched the desire to do it again. For heaven’s sake, what the hell was going on?

  “So,” Alicia prompted, nodding her head at Kieran as she spoke to Julie,

  “who’s your friend?”

  “He’s not my friend,” Julie countered, glancing from her roommate to Kieran and back again. Only a moment ago, she’d been worried about being alone with him. Now she nearly resented Alicia’s presence. “I just met him,” she said, avoiding for some reason, giving her friend Kieran’s name. One blond eyebrow lifted and Alicia grinned. “Way to go, Jules.”

  “Oh, yeah, yay me,” Julie muttered, her gaze swinging back to the man in front of her.

  Alicia laughed and walked s
traight to the refrigerator, swaying her hips in a timeless invitation that was more unconscious than deliberate. “See? I’ve been telling you for weeks that you have to get your head out of your work once in a while.”

  “Yeah, well…” She glanced at Kieran, but he wasn’t looking at her anymore. Instead his ice-blue eyes were locked on her roommate. Typical.

  Well, what did she expect? She wasn’t exactly dressed for seduction, that amazing kiss notwithstanding. Then she noticed that Kieran was looking at her again. “She’s your friend?”

  “Yes,” Julie said, glancing now at Alicia, who was rooting around in the fridge. “She lives here with me.”

  “She should leave,” Kieran said softly, his voice somehow carrying over the slam of the party noise.

  “Huh?” Julie moved away from him. For God’s sake, was the man going to try to empty the house one person at a time?

  Alicia hooted, “Hah! I knew there was another bottle in there somewhere!” She dragged her prize, a bottle of chardonnay out of the fridge before shutting the door again. “Who’s leaving?”

  “Nobody,” Julie said, never taking her gaze off Kieran. The man could melt steel with that hot glare, but she wouldn’t back off. Alicia stepped up beside Julie. “He wants us to leave? Our own house?”

  “For your safety.”

  “Uh-huh.” Alicia nodded slowly, as if soothing a crabby three-year-old.

  “Okeydokey. Julie honey, I’m going back into the party now. You coming?”

  The overhead light shone down fiercely, throwing Kieran’s features into sharp relief. He looked…otherworldly. Mysterious. Dangerous. And just a little bit—okay a lot—sexy. Shadows hid his eyes, but Julie felt the power of them just the same.