Rogue. Rachel Vincent

other end of the line.

      “Miss me?” The man’s voice was sharp with hostility, obvious even in just those two words.

      The unexpected voice—and the angry question—surprised me so much that I fell on my tailbone, smacking the back of my skull against the edge of my desktop. Confused, and still rubbing the new bump on my head, I held the phone at arm’s length to read the number on the screen. I didn’t recognize it.

      “Should I miss you?” I asked finally, pressing the phone against my ear.

      “I guess that’s a matter of opinion, Faythe. My idea of what you should do obviously has little in common with your own.”

      Irritation flared in my chest like heartburn. “Who the hell is this?” I demanded, half convinced that my judgmental caller had the wrong number, even though he knew my name.

      Deep Throat clucked his tongue in my ear, and I gritted my teeth against the intimate sound and feel of his disapproval. “How soon they forget,” he whispered, and the enmity in his tone chilled me.

      Bewildered, and now truly pissed off, I glanced at the phone again, hoping to identify the number on second glance. I couldn’t, yet the caller obviously knew me. In fact, he spoke as if I should have been expecting his call. As if we were picking up an old, unfinished conversation…

      And suddenly I knew. Andrew.

      Shock knocked the breath from my lungs. The phone slipped from my hand and landed in my lap, then cartwheeled to the floor with a carpet-muffled thud. Miraculously, it remained open.

      I’d never heard my human ex speak a word in anger before, and the rage in his voice rendered it completely unrecognizable.

      For a moment, I simply stared at the phone, too astounded to move. I hadn’t spoken to Andrew in three months, since before I’d quit school and agreed to work for my father. Hearing from him now was odd and uncomfortable, especially considering how mad he obviously was.

      But then, that last part was at least partially my fault.

      After surviving a beating from Miguel, taking a life in defense of my own, and becoming the country’s first and only female enforcer, I was no longer the same girl Andrew once knew. The entire college experience—including the exotic-because-he’s-normal human boyfriend—seemed really tame, and much less relevant to my new life. Which was actually my precollege life on steroids.

      I’d tried to tell Andrew I was leaving school, and that Marc and I had gotten back together, but Andrew hadn’t answered his cell phone, and his roommate didn’t know where he was. And honestly, I thought it would be easier for all concerned if I let my efforts rest there, so we could all move on in peace.

      Clearly I was wrong.

      “What, all of a sudden you have nothing to say?” Andrew said, breaking into my thoughts. “That’s certainly new.”

      So is your attitude. I picked up the phone and held it to my ear, unsure what I was going to say until the words came out of their own accord. “Andrew?” I asked, the gears in my brain grinding almost audibly as I tried to reconcile this bitter, sharp-tongued man with my Andrew, who was sweet, and funny, and…nice. I couldn’t do it.

      “So you do remember me?” His sarcasm was every bit as sharp as my own claws.

      “Of course I do.”

      “I haven’t forgotten you, either.” He didn’t sound very pleased by that fact, and at the moment, the feeling was mutual.

      Before I could reply, a harsh rustling sounded in my ear, as if he’d covered up the phone on his end of the line. Then I heard indecipherable angry words, and the line went silent. No static, and no breathing. He’d hung up.

      The words end call, printed across the screen on my phone, confirmed it.

      At least a minute later, my bedroom door swung open to smack against my knees, and Marc stuck his head around the edge to see what he’d hit. He found me still staring at my phone, my robe gaping open across one thigh. “You have to push the buttons to make that work,” he said, his expression completely serious.

      “Thanks, smart-ass.” I shook my head to wake myself up. Fatigue and the shock of hearing from Andrew had pulled me past the end of my energy reserve.

      Marc offered me his hand as he stepped into the room. I took it, and he hauled me up. He would have pulled me into an embrace, but I aimed a pointed glance at his grime-covered clothes and stepped back, banging my hip on the corner of my desk. “Something wrong with your phone?”

      “Nope. I was just checking the charge.” I trudged over to my dresser and dropped the phone next to my watch, going for nonchalance as I opened the top drawer and grabbed underwear at random. But my faux casual gesture was pretty much ruined when I realized I already had a clean pair waiting on the bed.

      I couldn’t tell Marc about the phone call, because he’d assumed from the beginning that I’d ended things with Andrew properly. I hadn’t lied, exactly. I just hadn’t corrected his assumption. And really, was it my fault he’d made an ass out of us both?

      “Oh.” Marc pulled his shirt over his head and dropped it on top of my pile of clothes.

      “You have your own shower.” I crossed my arms over the front of my robe to hold it closed. I couldn’t concentrate on being irritated while he was half-naked, and he damn well knew it.

      Marc gave me a sly grin and kicked the door closed with his foot. “I’m borrowing yours. It’s the least you owe me after leaving me to sweat to death in that crematorium of a car.”

      I shoved the extra pair of underwear back into the drawer. “Serves you right for sleeping through the entire trip.”

      “I’ll make it up to you.” His jeans fell to the floor, and my eyes trailed after them helplessly, hypnotized by the goldenbrown color of his skin. No fair tempting me while I was too weak to resist.

      Fortunately, I knew how to play that game, too. I let my robe fall open, framing my body with lavender terry cloth. Marc came forward with his arms outstretched, lust in his eyes and impatience in his step.

      I held him at arm’s length. “Not while you smell like an enforcer.”

      He groaned and backed toward the bathroom, his eyes holding mine captive. “I’ll be back in two minutes. Time me. Two minutes.”

      I laughed. “Two minutes, or you’re out of luck.” I let the material slide off slowly. The shower was running by the time my robe hit the floor, but I was too tired to chuckle as I pulled a nightshirt over my head and stepped into my underwear. I slid beneath my covers with thoughts of Marc in the shower, slick with soap and water, and scented by my shampoo.

      I’d already forgotten about Andrew’s phone call by the time I fell asleep, and the last thing I heard before surrendering to exhaustion was Marc’s groan of frustration when he opened the bathroom door to find me already curled up. Without him.

       Four

      “Faythe, watch out!”

      I whirled instinctively toward the sound of Ryan’s voice the instant I heard it. I should have known better. In the far corner of the basement, my second-born brother stood gripping the steel bars of the cage, staring over my shoulder with his eyes wide in warning.

      Shadows shifted on the wall in front of me. Clothing whispered behind me. A foreign heartbeat echoed in my ear. Hot breath stirred hairs on the back of my neck. I spun to face my foe. I was too late.

      My eyes found his as his foot hit my ankle. He swept my feet out from under me. My ass hit the thick blue mat with a muted thud. My teeth clicked together, one side of my cheek between them. Sucking on the wound, I glared up at my opponent.

      Ethan grinned down at me, peering through green eyes a shade brighter than my own,