The Tribeca penthouse was exactly what I'd expected from Adrian Nightshade – elegant, expensive, and designed to intimidate. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a breathtaking view of the Hudson River, while the interior was all clean lines, dark wood, and furniture that probably cost more than most people's homes. It was the kind of space that whispered power and money in equal measure.
But I hadn't come here to admire his decorator's taste.
Adrian was waiting for me in the living room, having traded his tuxedo for dark jeans and a black sweater that did nothing to diminish his dangerous appeal. If anything, the casual clothes made him look more predatory, more like the wolf I knew lurked beneath his civilized facade.
"You came," he said, rising from his position on the leather sofa with that fluid grace that marked him as something other than human.
"You didn't give me much choice," I replied, keeping my voice cool despite the way my heart rate spiked at the sight of him. "That message was hardly a request."
His lips curved in a smile that was part amusement, part challenge. "No, it wasn't. Can I offer you something to drink? Wine? Coffee? Something stronger?"
"I'm not here for social pleasantries, Adrian." I remained standing near the entrance, ready to bolt if this conversation went sideways. "You said we needed to talk. So talk."
He studied me for a long moment, those storm-blue eyes seeming to see straight through every carefully constructed defense I'd built around myself. "You're afraid of me."
It wasn't a question, and the accuracy of his observation made my wolf bristle with defensive anger. "I'm not afraid of anything."
"Liar." He took a step closer, and I had to force myself not to retreat. "You're terrified that I might be able to see through whatever game you're playing. Terrified that I might figure out who you really are before you're ready to reveal it."
"And who do you think I really am?" I challenged, lifting my chin in defiance.
"I think," he said softly, taking another step closer, "that you're the most dangerous woman I've ever met. I think you're playing a game that could get us both killed. And I think you're connected to the Blackwood family in ways that go much deeper than a simple business relationship."
My blood turned to ice, but I kept my expression neutral. "That's quite an imagination you have."
"Is it?" He was close enough now that I could smell his intoxicating scent, could feel the heat radiating from his powerful body. "Then explain why every instinct I possess tells me to either claim you or kill you. Explain why my wolf recognizes your scent as something precious and forbidden. Explain why you make me feel things that I haven't felt in years."
The raw honesty in his voice caught me off guard. This wasn't the smooth seduction I'd expected from a man of his reputation. This was something rawer, more vulnerable, more real.
"Maybe your instincts are wrong," I said quietly, though even I could hear how unconvincing I sounded.
"My instincts have kept me alive for twenty-eight years in a world where showing weakness means death," he replied, reaching up to trace one finger along my cheek. "They're never wrong about the things that matter."
I should have pulled away from his touch. Should have maintained the distance that safety required. Instead, I found myself leaning into his caress like a flower turning toward the sun.
"This is insane," I whispered. "We're supposed to be enemies."
"Are we?" His thumb traced across my lower lip, and I felt my resolve wavering. "Because right now, the only thing I want to fight is this overwhelming urge to kiss you until neither of us can think straight."
Before I could respond, his phone rang, the sharp sound shattering the intimate moment between us. Adrian cursed under his breath and stepped away to answer it, leaving me feeling oddly bereft.
"Nightshade," he said curtly into the phone, then listened for a moment before his expression grew grim. "When? How bad? I'll be right there."
He hung up and turned to me with an expression of genuine regret. "I have to go. Family emergency. But Elena..." He moved closer again, his eyes intense with unspoken promises. "This conversation isn't over. Not by a long shot."
"I should go too," I said, proud that my voice remained steady despite the chaos of emotions swirling through me.
"Let me drive you," he offered, but I shook my head.
"I can take care of myself." I moved toward the door, then paused to look back at him. "But Adrian? Whatever you think you know about me, whatever you think you've figured out – be very careful how you use that information. I'm not the helpless little lamb you might be hoping for."
His smile was sharp and predatory. "Trust me, sweetheart. Helpless is the last thing I'd ever call you."
The Next Evening
I stood outside Cross Financial Group at nearly midnight, using my new security access to enter through the employee garage. The building was empty except for a skeleton crew of security guards, most of whom were more interested in their smartphones than actually monitoring the premises.
Perfect for what I had planned.
I'd spent the day playing the perfect assistant, taking meetings, organizing Damien's schedule, and watching the fallout from yesterday's Meridian Industries disaster continue to unfold. The board was getting increasingly restless, several major clients were asking pointed questions about Cross Financial's risk management, and Damien was starting to show the strain.
But I needed more than market manipulation to bring him down completely. I needed inside information – recorded conversations, confidential documents, evidence of the kind of illegal activities that would destroy him personally as well as professionally.
Which meant I needed to plant surveillance equipment in his office.
The forty-second floor was eerily quiet as I made my way to Damien's corner office, my heels muffled by the thick carpeting. I'd changed from my business attire into all black – fitted pants, long-sleeved shirt, and soft-soled boots that would make minimal noise. The surveillance equipment was small enough to fit in a makeup compact, state-of-the-art technology that would record both audio and video while being virtually undetectable.
Damien's office was exactly as he'd left it – messy desk covered with documents, computer still logged in despite company security policies, expensive whiskey decanter half-empty on the sidebar. I moved quickly and efficiently, placing tiny cameras in strategic locations and audio devices that would pick up even whispered conversations.
I was just finishing with the last device, hidden inside a pen holder on his desk, when I heard the distinctive click of high heels on marble coming down the hallway.
My blood froze. Security guards wore soft-soled shoes, and the cleaning crew had finished hours ago. Those were the heels of someone who belonged in the executive suites, someone who had legitimate access to this floor.
I quickly pocketed the remaining equipment and moved toward the office door, hoping to slip out before whoever it was reached Damien's office. But I was too late. The footsteps stopped right outside, and I heard the unmistakable sound of a key turning in the lock.
Shit.
I pressed myself against the wall beside the door, hoping the darkness would hide me long enough for whoever it was to leave. But as the door opened and the lights flicked on, I found myself face to face with the last person I'd expected to see.
Vivian.
My sister – half-sister, I corrected myself bitterly – stood in the doorway wearing a white designer coat and an expression of surprise that quickly morphed into something much more dangerous. At twenty-six, Vivian had grown into her beauty, her golden hair perfectly styled and her blue eyes as innocent as ever. She looked like an angel.
But I knew better than anyone that angels could be the most vicious predators of all.
"Well, well," she said softly, closing the door behind her and leaning against it with casual grace. "Elena Sterling. Fancy meeting you here at this hour."
My heart was pounding, but I kept my voice steady. "Mrs. Cross. I was just finishing up some work for your husband."
"Were you?" Her smile was sweet and deadly, like poisoned honey. "In the dark? How... dedicated of you."
I could see the wheels turning behind those deceptively innocent eyes, could smell the sharp spike of adrenaline that meant her predatory instincts were fully engaged. This was bad. Very, very bad.
"I should go," I said, taking a step toward the door, "let you get to whatever you came here for."
"Oh, but I insist you stay," Vivian said, her voice still pleasant but carrying an undertone of steel. "You see, I've been so curious about my husband's fascinating new assistant. The mysterious Elena Sterling who appeared out of nowhere and immediately caught Damien's attention."
She began walking slowly around the office, her movements casual but purposeful, like a predator circling its prey. "Such an interesting woman. Beautiful, brilliant, completely irresistible to men who should know better. It's almost supernatural, wouldn't you say?"
My mouth went dry. She knew. Somehow, despite all my careful planning and perfect documentation, she knew that Elena Sterling wasn't who she appeared to be.
"I'm not sure what you're implying," I said carefully.
"Oh, I think you know exactly what I'm implying." She stopped in front of Damien's desk, her fingers trailing across the surface where I'd just placed surveillance equipment. "You see, I've been doing some research on you, Elena. And it's fascinating how little there is to find. Almost as if you didn't exist before six months ago."
She turned to face me fully, and for the first time, I saw something familiar in her expression. Something that reminded me of the sister I'd once loved, before I'd learned what she really was.
"But you know what's really interesting?" she continued, her voice dropping to a whisper. "You smell familiar. Beneath all that expensive perfume and supernatural glamour, there's something about your scent that I recognize."
My wolf stirred restlessly, sensing the danger building in the room like electricity before a storm. "I think you're confused—"
"Am I?" Vivian's smile widened, showing teeth that seemed just a little too sharp. "Because I could swear you smell like someone I used to know. Someone who died three years ago in a tragic accident."
The pretense fell away like a discarded mask. "Hello, sister."
The words hung in the air between us like a thrown gauntlet. For a moment, neither of us moved, two predators sizing each other up and calculating our chances of survival.
Then Vivian laughed, a sound like breaking glass. "Oh, Scarlett. Did you really think you could fool me? I may not have your supernatural gifts, but I know my own blood when I smell it."
"It's Elena now," I said quietly, abandoning any pretense that she was wrong. "Scarlett Blackwood died three years ago, remember? You made sure of that."
"Did I?" She tilted her head with mock innocence. "As I recall, poor Scarlett was so distraught over her father's death that she took a tragic walk by the cliffs. Such a shame. She was always so... unstable."
Rage flooded through me like liquid fire, and I felt my eyes begin to glow with supernatural light. "You murdered him. Both of you. And then you tried to murder me."
"We did what was necessary," Vivian said with a shrug that was pure callous indifference. "Father was getting suspicious about Margaret's medical research, and you were becoming inconveniently attached to Damien. It was cleaner to remove both obstacles at once."
"Obstacles." The word came out as a growl. "Your own family."
"My adopted family," she corrected with cruel emphasis. "Did you really think Margaret loved you? You were a tool, Scarlett. A pretty, malleable tool that served its purpose and then became redundant."
I took a step toward her, power crackling around me like static electricity. "And now?"
"Now you're a threat that needs to be eliminated." Her hand moved to her purse with practiced ease, withdrawing what looked like an elegant silver pen. But I could smell the chemical tang of poison, could see the needle-fine point that would deliver whatever lethal cocktail she'd prepared.
"You came prepared," I observed, impressed despite myself.
"I came prepared for the possibility that Elena Sterling might be more than she appeared," Vivian said, holding the poisoned weapon with casual confidence. "I have to admit, I wasn't entirely certain until tonight. But your reaction when I mentioned Scarlett's death was quite illuminating."
We faced each other across Damien's office, two women who had once been sisters, now revealed as mortal enemies. The air between us crackled with tension and barely restrained violence.
"You know," I said conversationally, "I used to love you. Even after everything, part of me hoped that maybe you'd been manipulated, that maybe Margaret had forced you into betraying me."
"How disappointingly naive," Vivian replied. "I chose to betray you, Scarlett. I chose Damien over you, power over sentiment, survival over sisterly loyalty. And I'd make the same choice again."
"Then I guess there's nothing left to say."
We moved at the same time, two predators finally dropping all pretense of civility. Vivian lunged forward with the poisoned needle while I dodged to the side, my supernatural reflexes giving me just enough speed to avoid the initial strike.
But Vivian had been preparing for this moment for years. As I spun away from her first attack, she was already adjusting her trajectory, the needle slicing across my forearm in a burning line of pain.
The poison hit my system immediately, and I felt my legs buckle as my enhanced healing tried to process the foreign toxin. Whatever she'd used was specifically designed to affect supernatural metabolisms, probably something Margaret had developed in her twisted medical experiments.
"Did you really think I'd come unprepared?" Vivian asked as I fell to my knees, blood beginning to foam at the corners of my mouth. "Mother has been developing supernatural toxins for decades. This particular blend should kill even a Moon Queen in about three minutes."
Moon Queen. She knew exactly what I was, which meant Margaret had been watching me, studying me, preparing for the possibility of my return.
"The only question," Vivian continued, kneeling beside me as I collapsed fully to the floor, "is whether you're going to die quietly or if I need to make this look like a more conventional accident."
I could feel the poison burning through my veins like acid, could taste blood in my mouth as my enhanced healing fought a losing battle against whatever toxic cocktail Margaret had created. My vision was starting to blur, and my wolf was howling in pain and rage.
But even as darkness closed in around the edges of my consciousness, I managed to smile.
"You... think..." I gasped, blood spattering my lips as I spoke, "this will... kill me?"
Vivian frowned, clearly not liking my reaction. "It's already killing you, sister. Just accept it gracefully."
I laughed, the sound wet and horrible but genuinely amused. "You stupid... little girl. You have no idea... what I really am."
"Enlighten me," she said coldly.
With tremendous effort, I raised my head to meet her eyes, letting her see the silver fire that was beginning to burn behind my irises as my true nature responded to mortal threat.
"I'm the daughter... of the moon goddess herself," I whispered, feeling power begin to surge through me despite the poison. "Did you really think... something mixed in Margaret's... basement laboratory... could kill me?"
For the first time since she'd entered the office, Vivian looked uncertain. "The poison should have—"
"Should have killed an ordinary werewolf," I finished, my voice growing stronger as divine power began to burn the toxin from my system. "But I'm not... ordinary."
The silver light in my eyes intensified, and I felt the Moon Queen's power rising within me like a tidal wave of supernatural force. The poison that should have killed me was being purified by Selene's blessing, transformed from a weapon into fuel for my resurrection.
Vivian stumbled backward as the temperature in the room plummeted and frost began forming on the windows. "That's impossible. Nothing survives that toxin."
"Nothing human," I agreed, rising to my feet with fluid grace as the last of the poison burned away. "But then again, I stopped being entirely human the night you murdered me."
The fear in her eyes was intoxicating, better than any revenge I could have planned. For the first time in three years, Vivian was seeing me as I truly was – not the naive sister she'd betrayed, but something far more dangerous.
"Now then," I said pleasantly, flexing my fingers as power danced between them like silver lightning, "shall we continue our family reunion?"
End of Chapter 5