Marked. Lydia Parks

had seen in a dream as a child that she associated with her parents was a beautiful valley viewed from high up in the mountains—a valley filled with mountain lions. She knew this wasn’t real. Mountain lions didn’t run in packs like dogs; they were solitary creatures. In her dream, forty or fifty giant cats, all beautiful, sleek, their tawny hides golden in the sun, romped and played like kids. Just the memory of that dream brought her joy, but also made her lonely.

      She hadn’t thought of her dream of the valley of mountain lions for years. Cole had stirred up too much of her past in few short seconds. Damn him.

      She wished she still had her grandmother to call for support. The woman’s death was too fresh a wound to have healed and, as she sat on the sofa thinking about her, Alicia felt as if she’d just ripped off the scab. Tears burned behind her eyes.

      Lightning flashed in the front window, followed by a crack of thunder. The storm moving in might even drop snow on Sandia Crest.

      Fighting the urge to scream, she yanked open the front door, stepped out and crossed to the railing, where she faced the parking lot. Beyond the asphalt and buildings, she studied the veiled face of Sandia even as clouds crowded in to block her view.

      Lightning forked from the sky, popping in the distance where it met the ground. Nearly instantaneous thunder shook the walkway and railing, and filled her soul with excitement. She squinted against a gust of sand-filled wind and gripped the railing tighter.

      “Magnificent, isn’t it?”

      Alicia jumped at the voice from behind her and spun around to find Cole looking out at the storm, his face raised toward the clouds. He stood less than two feet away.

      Apparently not noticing how he’d startled her, he moved forward to stand beside her at the railing.

      She turned, gripped the cool metal and looked out. Below them, the parking lot and lawn had been abandoned for the storm and the night. Although it couldn’t be later than six-thirty, building lights on photocells blinked on.

      “This is the time of year when everything is full of energy,” he said. “Rain carries life from the sky to the ground where it’s soaked up by the young corn and the sage.”

      His voice was deep and soothing, and, surprisingly, she found his presence comforting.

      “You sound like my grandmother.”

      He turned his head and smiled down at her, studying her face with his golden eyes.

      Alicia’s mouth instantly dried out and her throat tightened. She saw smoldering desire in his gaze and felt as though it were more important than it should be. What difference could it possibly make that this gorgeous man wanted her? Lots of men had wanted her, and she’d wanted more than a few of them.

      But this was different, more personal somehow.

      Lightning drew her attention from him, and she closed her eyes to enjoy the vibration of thunder in her chest.

      “It’s not surprising,” he said.

      “What? That you sound like my grandmother?”

      “Yes. Her people and ours have been bound together for centuries.”

      Alicia turned to face him. “By ours, you mean yours and mine?”

      “Yes.”

      “This is bullshit, Cole. I don’t know—”

      “You feel the connection. I know you do.”

      Her breath caught in her throat. She did feel some kind of connection to him, but it made no sense. He was little more than a stranger.

      She shook her head. “No, it’s…”

      “What?”

      She met his gaze. “It’s just lust.”

      His eyes widened as if with shock, and she laughed. In that instant, she knew he wouldn’t hurt her, no matter how strange he was.

      Cole shook his head and looked away. “No,” he said. “I wish it were that simple.”

      Exasperation swelled under her rib cage in spite of her laughter, and she wanted to yell at him in frustration. “Okay, then, explain it to me.”

      His gaze slid to hers. “If I do, you must promise to listen with your ears and your heart.”

      God, he did sound like her grandmother.

      “Sure. I promise. Tell me the big secret.”

      Cole straightened. “Not out here.”

      “Fine. Your place or mine?”

      He frowned down at her. “Yours.”

      Chapter Two

      It terrified Cole that Alicia knew of his desire for her. Somehow her knowing fanned the flames.

      He sat perched on the chair he’d occupied earlier, watching the storm roll in. Large drops individually assaulted the front window.

      She returned to the sofa, studying him, her eyes shining with guarded curiosity. He didn’t look for more in her expression for fear of finding it.

      Her scent alone made him fidget.

      “You said my father was one of the leaders of…?”

      “The Kimosh.”

      “The what?”

      “Our people are the Kimosh, driven out of Mexico centuries ago.” He glanced at her and found her listening, so he continued. “We were hunted, nearly to the point of extinction, until Gower, our leader, took us north. We found sympathizers among the natives.”

      “You don’t look like you came from Mexico.”

      “Some of our early ancestors traveled with Vikings and other explorers. Much of our heritage is lost in folklore, but I believe we originated in Eastern Europe.”

      Alicia huffed. “Why is this some big secret? I don’t get it. Everyone comes from somewhere.”

      Cole took a deep breath and quietly blew it out. “If the rest of the world found out about us, we’d be hunted again.”

      “Why?”

      He stood and crossed the room, then turned back to study her. She looked regal sitting very straight with one bare foot drawn up under her leg. She had the long, slender neck and high cheekbones of her line.

      She wouldn’t believe him. He knew that. And, judging by what he’d learned of her determination, she might throw him out for good.

      He walked back and crouched in front of her, looking up into her wide, green eyes. “You’ve felt the longing, the ache inside like you’re not in your own skin, haven’t you? You’ve wanted to run with inhuman speed, flat out, to slice through the wind like a knife. You’ve always felt different, alone.”

      He watched her process his words and saw the truth in her expression.

      Her eyes cut from his to the window. “Everyone feels those things.”

      He took her left hand in both of his, stroking her long fingers across his palm. “No, Alicia, not everyone. Not with the same intensity you and I do. What you’re feeling is the soul of the cat. Our name, Kimosh, evolved from words of several ancient languages merged together. It means Mountain Lion People.”

      She jerked her hand away and stared down at him, her chest suddenly heaving with quickened breath.

      “Mountain lions,” she whispered. “I saw them in a dream, lots of them in a big valley surrounded by cliffs.”

      He nodded. “Home. And it wasn’t a dream.”

      “But—”

      Cole reached inside his shirt and drew out his necklace, the one that matched that resting just above her