Enemy Lover

“Renee couldn’t know where the book was hidden. She didn’t even know who you are. And even if she did, why would the Morphs murder her?"

Damian’s fingers relaxed as he stopped to regard her. “She did, Jamie. Renee knew my family well. She was a Draicon. That’s why they killed her—to ingest her energy and give them power. The dying fear of a Draicon is much more powerful than a human’s death fears.”

She sagged into the chair. Impossible. Draicon were evil. Uncaring, brutish werewolves, not sweet, motherly psychics.

“Years ago, Draicon here were outnumbered by Morphs and went into hiding. Renee was among them. I couldn’t tell because I didn’t recognize her scent. Renee used a chemical compound to disguise her scent from the Morphs. Very clever. Whoever did this must have realized her identity and her association with my family.”

Or tortured it out of her. It was too fantastic. Her emotions raced between heartbreaking grief and utter betrayal. “But her grandchild is human. She showed me pictures!”

“Draicon. The parents are from a pack in North Carolina.”

Even her friend had been the enemy. Jamie tried sorting it out. As she had with first her parents’ deaths and then Mark’s, she shoved grief into a dark corner. First came survival.

“I have to find the book. It contains a spell to remove the dark magick, and counteract the spell infecting you. The Morphs know where to start looking now and they won’t stop until they find it.”

Damian leaned against the wall, crossing his powerful arms across his chest. “I hate leaving you here to search for the book, but I have little choice. I’ll send Raphael’s guys to guard you.”

The hell with that. Damian would find the book and her solution to lifting the binding spell crippling her powers. He would wield it over her, always dominating her with his magick, and she’d be trapped. His, forever.

She gripped the chair’s armrests. Damian was the key to finding what she desperately needed. Trusting him was impossible, but for now, she had to join forces with him.

“I’m not staying here. I’m coming with you.”

“The hell you are.”

“The hell I am. My life is tied up in the book. Do you think I’ll sit here and wait? I’m not the waiting sort.”

“Listen to me,” he said quietly. “You made choices before, wrong choices, and lived as you pleased. Not anymore. You will do as I say, Jamie. Period.”

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