Embrace the Night by Crystal Jordan Page A

contrasted with Peyton’s all-American good looks. Sandy brown hair, blue eyes, tall and muscular physique, but not so much that it caught attention—the type of guy who could fade into the woodwork if he chose. His gaze swept the office, took in Chloe and Merek in a single glance. A chill went down Merek’s spine, and he didn’t doubt that with that single glance the werewolf could describe in minute detail everything he’d seen, smelled, or sensed about the room and the people occupying it.
    A dangerous man.
    It should have relieved Merek to hand Chloe over to competent agents, but it didn’t. He clenched his jaw until it ached as he listened to Luca explain Chloe’s situation to her, the need for her to give up her life, her family, her friends, her career because the knowledge she had in her head made her a risk to everyone she knew.
    She grew paler and paler by the moment. Her eyes went wider and wider with shock, her fingers twisting the strap on her purse, and Merek’s insides twisted right along with it. Those haunted hazel eyes turned to him for confirmation of this nightmare she’d found herself in, and he could only give her a single, sharp nod.
    Gods, but he wanted to pull her into his arms and protect her from this. His fingers fisted on the arms of his chair listening to Cavalli’s smooth voice lay out why she had to go into protective custody until they captured Leonard Smith—though Merek noted the vampire failed to mention how many years they’d been unsuccessful in doing so, and that they might continue to be unsuccessful for years more. She might never reclaim the life she had now, might never see the people she loved again.
    Every instinct told him not to let her go, to keep her with him, but he ignored them. The possessiveness wasn’t something he should feel, and he shoved it aside.
    Her dazed, terrified eyes met his just once more before she was pulled out the door, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that if he let her go now, he’d lose her forever. She would be gone, ended. Dead. His gut clenched, twisted into a cold, hard knot.
    The tension inside built and built until it snapped.
    Cursing her, cursing himself, he grabbed his jacket and slammed out of his office. The captain would have his ass if he interfered with a case that was no longer under the MTF’s jurisdiction. Hell, his partner would have his ass for fucking up like this, and that was a lot more dangerous than pissing off the captain. Neither thought slowed him down as he peeled out of the station to tail the FBI agents. Chloe.
    He shoved a hand through his hair. “I have lost my fucking mind.”
    Worse, he’d lost control.

3
    H ow had she ended up in this place? A few hours ago, she’d been at work in her pristine lab. An hour ago, she’d been a murder suspect. Now she was a victim in the making with a terrorist who wanted to do to her what he’d done to Damien. It just couldn’t be real. She was dreaming. Having a nightmare. Having a psychotic break. Her research had finally driven her around the bend. Chloe stared blankly at her surroundings for a moment before anything even registered.
    The safe house was small and dark, with a faint dankness in the air that said the Pacific Northwestern damp had set in and begun to rot the wood somewhere in the building. It was nothing like her beautiful, airy home.
    She swallowed, already hating the gloom of this place. She wanted to go around and turn every lamp on. Instead, she glanced at the men who dominated the living room. Peyton’s nostrils flared, the closest thing to emotion to cross his face in the hour since she’d met him. He didn’t smile; he didn’t talk much; he just looked over and summed her up in a coolly competent way that made her really, really glad they were on the same side.
    What Peyton lacked in gregariousness, Luca Cavalli more than made up for. He had the gift of gab