Wolf Undaunted. Shannon Curtis

issue with shadows in her peripheral vision to Natalie before her brother and sister-in-law had left Marchetta Manor. Natalie and her father did not get along. She couldn’t blame her. Vincent Marchetta had kidnapped Natalie for her strange blood—the same blood that had proven to be the vampiric cure against a werewolf bite, and what had ultimately saved Vivianne’s own life, neutralizing the lycan toxin that had slowly spread through her body and would have killed her. Vivianne’s father, Vincent, would have consigned Natalie to a lifetime of captivity as a blood donor if Natalie hadn’t busted free and Lucien hadn’t fought his father on it. To say the Marchettas weren’t playing happy family at the moment would be an understatement.

      “No,” Vivianne lied. “All good.”

      Natalie’s eyes narrowed. “Vivianne...”

      “Natalie...” Vivianne responded in the same low, firm tone.

      Natalie frowned as she gazed behind her, and Vivianne whirled. “What? Do you see something?”

      “I’m not sure... I thought I saw...”

      Vivianne turned back to the phone warily. “What do you see?” Natalie had a...gift. She could see ghosts, and Vivianne had been in awe when Natalie had told her some stories about spirits she’d spoken with. It would have been easy to chalk it up to her sister-in-law being a bit of a loon, but she’d seen Natalie morph into a cross-breed; part-vampire, part-werewolf, part-human—something that wasn’t supposed to exist, so she’d decided to have a little faith in her sister-in-law’s ghostly abilities.

      Natalie squinted, then shrugged. “I get nothing.”

      “A ghost?” Could that explain the sense of being watched, of not being alone...? Could it explain the deep, almost gruff voice she occasionally heard in her head and desperately tried to ignore?

      Natalie shook her head. “I don’t think so,” she said, then smiled in reassurance. “Don’t mind me, I’m just tired. So, tell me about this date!”

      Vivianne pasted a smile on her face to hide her disappointment. If Natalie couldn’t see a ghost, then...it was all in her head. The visions, the voice... She swallowed. Maybe there was some permanent damage from the lycan toxin?

      A werewolf’s bite was lethal to a vampire, and she’d been brutally attacked by Rafe Woodland, a stray, angry wolf. She should have died, if it wasn’t for her brother’s efforts to find a miraculous cure and the aid of an unusual witch. A vampire had never survived a lycan’s bite before. Nobody knew if there were any side effects to what she’d experienced. Maybe the toxin was coming back? She remembered the early stages: the agonizing, searing pain, the burning of her blood vessels as the corrosive throbbed its way through her body with every beat of her heart... The terrifying, petrifying hallucinations... Her fingers clenched at the torturous memories. She’d never given voice to that experience, hadn’t told anyone, not even her brother, how scared and alone she’d felt, trapped inside a decaying body. No, because that would be a weakness she could ill-afford as she reestablished herself as the reigning Marchetta Prime. She forced herself to concentrate on the conversation with Natalie.

      “Uh, he’s one of the district guardians—”

      “Do you like him?”

      “Sure, he’s nice enough.”

      “Nice enough?” Natalie rolled her eyes. “A shiraz is ‘nice enough.’ You’re talking about a guy. Is he gorgeous?”

      Vivianne nodded. “He’s good-looking,” she admitted. Then she smiled. “He surprised me.”

      “Why? You’re gorgeous, he’s gorgeous, you already have so much in common.”

      She shrugged as she played with her foundation brush. “It’s just—it’s been a while since I’ve been out with a guy.”

      “You were in a supernatural coma for eight months, Vivianne. That will put a dent in anyone’s social life.”

      Vivianne chuckled. “No, I mean—I’m a Prime, Natalie. Not many guys are willing to ask a Prime out on a date.”

      “Ooh, so this is a date. You said it was business meeting when I first called.”

      “Well, I’m not sure. Maybe it’s both.”

      “Do you want it to be?”

      Vivianne hesitated, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip as she thought about her response. “Dating is...hard. When I was younger, I couldn’t tell if the guys were asking me out for me, or because it gave them access to my father.” She’d learned that, the hard way. She shrugged. “I don’t get...too involved.”

      “You’re playing it safe,” Natalie commented. This time it was her sister-in-law who shrugged. “That’s smart. I get it. But every now and then, a risk can pay off.”

      “I take enough risks in business,” Vivianne said.

      “I’m just saying, maybe you can trust this one a little more?”

      And let him find out that either the toxin was back, or she was going crazy? Yeah, no. Some of her worry must have shown on her face, because Natalie’s expression grew serious.

      “Do you want me to come back, Viv?”

      Only Natalie and Lucien called her Viv. Only they had the audacity to do so. She was touched by Natalie’s offer. It would mean returning to the very place she’d been held captive, and facing the man who had orchestrated it...Vivianne’s father. That Natalie was prepared to do that just made her care for her sister-in-law all the more. Not that she’d ever admit that to anyone. She sucked in a breath and shook her head.

      “No, thanks so much for the offer, but I’m fine. Really.” She’d figure it out on her own, just like she always did, and she’d sort it out. One way or another. The phone chimed, and Vivianne grimaced. “Dad’s trying to get through.”

      Natalie made a face. “That’s my cue to leave. I’d say give him my best, but we both know I don’t mean it.”

      Vivianne was still chuckling when her sister-in-law disappeared. She fidgeted with her robe, making sure she was modestly presentable, then accepted the call from her father.

      Vincent Marchetta’s face peered back at her. His expression was cool, remote, and she quickly adopted the same.

      “Hello, Dad.”

      “Vivianne, I need to talk with you.” Vivianne kept her features calm. There was never any greeting from her father.

      “I’m about to go out—” she began, but he shook his head.

      “No. I won’t do this over the phone. I’ll meet with you tomorrow night, seven o’clock, at home.”

      She knew her father expected a quick acquiescence, a display of obedience, but she’d been his daughter for hundreds of years, and disappointment came with the role. “I’ll see if I’m free.” She quickly pressed a few buttons on her phone, and scanned her calendar. Sure enough, she had a meeting scheduled.

      “Push it to eight and I can make it.”

      His lips pressed together. “I’m fairly busy—”

      “So am I, Dad,” she interrupted. It was the family business she was working at, after all. Besides, she’d learned that if you didn’t push back a little with her father, he could be a steamroller, crushing everything in his path.

      He sighed noisily, clearly communicating his disappointment, before finally nodding—once. “Fine. Eight.”

      “Can you give me any idea what this is about?” She could try to guess, but she’d learned she could never figure out how her father thought.

      “A campaign,” her father stated shortly. “I’ll see you then.”

      The phone screen went black. Vivianne’s shoulders sagged. “Good talk, Dad. Yeah, love you, too.”