The rain carried the yellow-imbued blood down the sewer drain behind Caroline Austin, leaving an uncanny trail. The water fell like sheets from the heavens, blinding and suffocating her while she ran down the empty Minneapolis streets. The small, open wounds on her breasts throbbed in uncontrollable pain. She swiped at the seeping blood to dilute her trail, wishing the dark liquid would mix with the rain and disappear.

  She heard the heavy footsteps closing in behind her. Her legs buckled, and she fell to the pavement, the dirty rainwater sloshing into her eyes, blinding her. Her mind raced with sordid thoughts of death. She didn’t want to die, not here, not now, but her body froze in fear, and she couldn’t move. She closed her eyes, focusing on the image of her daughter that glowed for a moment in the darkness. The image gave her unusual strength, and she shoved her body upward, forcing herself to stand. The sound of approaching footsteps snapped her mind back to reality.

  In front of her, a bum sprawled on the sidewalk, was sound asleep. She ran toward him, opening her mouth to scream, to wake him from his drunken stupor. Yet no sound would come. The sudden, cold draft of death from behind kept her running. She turned the corner and there was Lucius.

  She tried to catch herself, to turn and run the other away, but she slipped and fell in front of him. Looking up at his figure before her, she wondered how anyone as old as him could be so fast.

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  Lucius leaned against the building, his brown hair falling gracefully behind his back. His smooth, oval face shone, his concerned gaze releasing some of her fear. His eyes could lock even the most non-submissive Deamhan and bring them to their knees. She had never been this close to him. She always believed she never would.

  He took slow steps toward her, holding out his hands. Surely he knew of her strong interest in him. She’d written detailed journals about him. These same writings were influential in her organization’s understanding of his kind. Before her, not much was known about his origins. She’d uncovered the rumors and silenced speculations without invading the privacy he had left.

  He took another step toward her, and this time she moved back. It plagued him that she feared for her life. She noticed small droplets of rain glistening off his face in delicate drops.

  Caroline turned to run, but he again appeared in front of her, blocking her way. She stumbled and fell to the pavement, her breath coming hard. His cold hands scooped her into his arms without effort, brushing her wet and matted bangs from her pale forehead. Her eyes gazed away, unable to stare at him as he placed his cold hand against her right cheek.

  He pulled back her shirt and noticed a fresh, wet bloodstain above her right breast.

  She was dying.

  The stranger held her close to his chest and turned to carry her to safety. How dare they not follow his decree! He’d been clear: they weren’t to harm or attack her. She was protected. His offspring disobeyed the law, which ratcheted the tension between Deamhan and humans.

  She opened her mouth to speak, but he silenced her, touching an icy finger to her lips.

  “Sleep, my love.” His voice was soft. “You are safe here … with me.”