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Lyrica watched as the last of the three helicopters lifted into the air and headed south. She’d miss the women, now headed back to their lives much wealthier than when they’d left them, but everyone had promised to stay in touch somehow. She didn’t have cell service, but according to Genevieve, a massive haul of computer systems had already arrived. It would be nice to reach out to the rest of the world without having to use a s atellite phone.

She nodded at Jonathan and Lukas, who had been assigned to escort her when she left the main lodge. She couldn’t believe another body had been found. According to a Kurjan mate she’d spoken with earlier, they’d never had a serial killer in their midst.

So who was doing this? Dr. Fizzlewick had reported that the second victim had also been raped and strangled, with no DNA left behind. Another circle with slashes had been carved into her neck.

What did that mean?

Lyrica shivered in the cold and her boots crunched ice as she made her way back to the nearly repaired lodge. It was impressive how quickly a motivated group of peo ple could work.

Ducking her head, she strode through the main living room back to her office, wanting to make a note of which released women she’d contact first after giving them a short time to get acclimated. For now, she looked at the files on her desk about the remaining Kurjan mates she h ad yet to meet.

So far, they had all wanted to stay. She had yet to find a truly unhappy mate, and that didn’t make sense to her. Twenty additional couples had arrived early that morning on the helicopters, and she had scheduled time to speak with a few of the females before the cocktail party that night, meeting s ome resistance.

That didn’ t surprise her.

She glanced at the cold cup of coffee near her tape dispenser. It marked her fourth of the day, so she should probably pass on her a fternoon treat.

A sharp knock had her jumpin g in her chair.

“Come on in,” she said, smoothing her hair. She hadn’t seen Vero all day. Not that it mattered, she rea ssured herself.

The door opened and a tall Kurjan soldier walked in dressed in a black uniform with silver medals across his breast. They were all tall, but this one stood at least six foot eight or nine.

“Hello.” She also stood.

He looked her over. His black hair had red tips, and his eyes were a deep amethyst with a hint of red. “I’ve been instructed that my mate needs to see you.” He stepped to the side, and a petite redhead walked inside. Her hair was braided and she wore a pretty green dress that matched her eyes. She looked ca lmly at Lyrica.

“Hi. I’m Lyrica.” She gestured to the guest chairs. “Would you like to have a seat?” The woman looked up at the soldier and he nodded, so she walked over and took the farthest seat.

The soldier looked at Lyrica. “I am Ralstad and this is m y mate, Maeve.”

“Hi. It’s nice to meet you ,” Lyrica said.

“I prefer to stand, ” Ralstad said.

Lyrica shook her head. “I would like to speak with Maeve alone, if y ou don’t mind.”

“I do mind,” he said.

Maeve remained quiet.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Lyrica said, “but we can check with the king or his enforce r if you wish.”

The male’s eyes narrowed. “Very well. I’ll be right outside. Don’t take too long.” He shut the door sharply behind himself, and heavy footsteps echoed as he no doubt headed toward the coffee bar in t he living room.

“So,” Lyrica said as she sat. “It’s nic e to meet you.”

“You as well,” Maeve said, a slight accent emerging with her words.

Lyrica pulled out the intake form she had created. “Do you hav e a last name?”

“No. Far as I know, we’re to pick a family name, but Ralstad hasn’t settled on one yet,” Mae ve said softly.

“I see. Do you have a name you prefer?” The woman looked at her blankly. “Okay, let’s start there. If you don’t mind telling me, what year were you born?”

“Oh, that’s simple enough,” the woman said. “I was born in the year 1860.”

Wow. To have lived through so many changes in the world. “Yo u sound Irish?”

“Yes.”

Lyrica took notes. How could she relax the woman? “Okay. When w ere you mated?”

“188 0,” Maeve said.

“I see.” Lyrica sat back and gave her most calming smile. “I don’t know if you’ve been informed, but things have changed in the Kurjan nation. Did you mate Rals tad willingly?”

Maeve looked at her and shook her head. “I don ’t understand.”

“Did you want to get mated?”

“Oh, sure. We had a fine arrangement, and Ralstad knew me Da, so it was a match that s uited us well.”

Geez, that sounded romantic. Lyrica placed the pen next to the paper. “Part of my job here is to make sure that you want to remain mated.”

Maeve tilted her head. “Sure, I’ve not a clue what yo u’re on about.”

“I mean that it’s your choice. If you don’t want to remain with Ralstad, you don’t have to stay mated. There’s a new virus that we believe ends the mating bond. I don’t know that much about it, but I am happy to look into it if you would like to ne gate the bond.”

“Ah, and what would I be doin’ in such a way?” Maeve asked, looking nervous ly at the door.

Lyrica’s instincts slowly awakened. Something was off with the woman. “Whatever you want. The Kurjan nation has money and can set you up anywhere, doing anything you want . You’re free.”

Maeve clasped her hands in her lap. “There’s no such thi ng as freedom.”

“But there is.” Lyrica looked down at the form. “Where have you been the past year?”

“At a Kurjan outpost in Russia,” Maeve said. “We watched the live feed when the current king took over from the last, and everyone was called back home if they wanted to stay part of the Kurjan nation. Ralstad wants to stay, for now, at least.”

Lyrica reached out with her senses. While she’d always thought of herself as empathetic, it turned out she truly had gifts, and she’d been trying to strengthen those while with the immortals. All she felt from Maeve was an odd nervousness. “W hat about you?”

Maeve shook her head. “I’ve no notion what you’re askin’.”

“What do y ou want to do?”

Maeve unclasped her hands. “Cho ose a surname?”

The woman had no idea about the world outside. “Don’t you want freedom? You could explore the world. You could go anywhere you want. Are you happy i n your mating?”

“My matchin’ suits well enough,” Maeve said softly. “Have ye any other questions for me? Ralstad said not to be ta kin’ too long.”

Ralstad seemed like k ind of a bully.

Lyrica looked down at the form. “Do you have any children?”

“No, not yet. We’ve not been able to have young so far, but sure it can take hundreds of years for the Kurjans,” Maeve added quickly. “It’s not on me , so it’s not.”

“I didn’t think it was,” Lyrica said, enjoying the woman’s brogue. “How would you like to take a weekend away, just girls, go somewhere fun and see an interesting part of the world?”

Maeve’s pretty green eyes widened. “Ah, no. I don’t reckon Ralstad’d be pleased with that.” Her nervousness turned into a low, buzzing panic.

“What does Ralstad do when he’ s not pleased?”

The door opened. “That’s enough time, ” Ralstad said.

Maeve jumped to her feet. “Grand talkin’ wit h you, Lyrica.”

“You too ,” Lyrica said.

Maeve hustled out of the office and Ralstad gave Lyrica a hard look before shu tting the door.

Lyrica took several deep breaths before scratching some notes. This absolutely would not be the only time she spoke with Maeve. She’d just finished up when another knock came on her door. She knew that one. “Come in, V ero,” she said.

He opened the door. “How’d you k now it was me?”

“Your kn ock is unique.”

His brows drew down. “That’s weird.” He moved inside and handed her a bouquet. Her heart lurched. She stood and accepted a stunning rustic winter arrangement made of evergreen sprigs, pine cones, and frosted birch twigs. There was a bit of moss gathered throughout, and a few feathers had been tucked delicately in to the mixture.

“What is this?” she asked, noting the entire bouquet was tied together with a simple s trip of burlap.

He shrugged. “There aren’t any flowers anywhere near, so I made my own. The brown and grayish feathers are from the boreal chickadee. There are a bunc h around here.”

She had the oddest urge to lean in and sniff the bouquet like she would if there were flowers. She did so, and the scent of the trees filled her. It smelled like Christmas.

“This was kind of you,” she said awkwardly . “Thank you.”

“I’ve decided to court you.” He turned and shut the door before taking the leather guest chair Maeve had vacated. “The closer I keep to you, the safer you are. I don’t think we can spend a lot of time together without combusting, and I know you like a structured and methodical approach. I don’t know how to use PowerPoint, so I thought I’d j ust be honest.”

Lyrica dropped to her seat, barely keeping shock off her face. “I, ah, I don’t have a vase.” Courting? What in the world was he talking about? The kiss from the other night as well as the feeling of his hard body bracketing hers in that bed flashed into her brain, and her face slowly heated.

“I don’t think we have any vases in the territory. I can put some on the next supply list.” He leaned over and took the bouquet, leaning it ag ainst the wall.

The smell of pine f illed the room.

“We don’t like each other,” Lyrica fin ally burst out.

A hint of a smile hovered on his lips. What would he look like truly smiling? Probably devasta ting. “I know.”

“You’re confusing me.” Also somehow turning her on. Thank goodness she’d wo rn a bra today.

“Not my intention.” His muscled body overwhelmed the pretty leather chair. “The kiss we shared was…explosive. I understand that you plan to leave Kurjan territory with the million-dollar fee after bringing us into this century. I don’t ever plan on mating. Since we’re being all modern, and I plan on guarding you while you’re here in the territory, and since you’re most certainly in danger, I thought we could date like the humans do.”

Date? Did he mean date or just sleep together? She liked logic, but this was throwing her off. “Why don’t you p lan on mating?”

His head tilted ever so slightly, as if surprised she latched onto that part of the conversation. “Let’s just say that an heir apparent and current enforcer to a king, who many in his nation want dead, does not have a long li fe expectancy.”

A chill swept through her. She tried to reach out with her newly developing senses and just felt hard resolve. No fear. No anticipation. No emotion she could read. “I don ’t understand.”

He gave one short nod as if that made sense. “Anybody wanting to kill Paxton has to go through me first. That means I’m dead before anybody gets to him. Or, in the alternative, if somebody somehow manages to kill him, and they’re strong enough to do so, then I’m next. They won’t want me ascending as the new king.”

How could he sound so matter-of-fa ct about dying?

“So you, um, want to have a relationship until I leave?” Her breath quickened and she tried to sl ow her exhales.

“Yes. Consent is imperative in this world, as you’ve explained, so I’m bringing you a winter bouquet and requesting consent.” He sounded read y to negotiate.

She stared blindly for a few seconds at his stunningly dark blue eyes. Unsure, turned on, she fell back on reason. If he could be so honest, so could she. “I’ll consider it, but I want, um, a contract in place.” Was she actually doing this? Contracting to date somebody? To sleep with the hard-bodied badass? Was she losing her mind? Or was this a reasonable and good idea?

He sat back in the chair and it creaked in protest. “That’ s a fine idea.”

Her mouth went dry as she remembered something from a sitcom she used to watch. “You are actually willing to draw up a relations hip agreement?”

“Then consent would be clear, would it not?”

Yeah, but the kiss the other night had been wildly passionate. “I want to draft the contract.”

“Of course you do. Or, maybe we should just go on a date and see wher e it leads us.”

Her chin lifted. “I’d rather we were both clear before we kiss again.” She could handle this. Control and organize the situation. Her mouth watered. She did want to kiss him again. “I am att racted to you.”

“I know.” No arrogance th ere. Just fact.

“Okay. I’ll draft something up and we can then decide if we really want to go this route.” This was too freaking bizarre. Yet her body flashed to awareness as if knowing an amazing treat was coming her way. The guy had said he’d been trained by the best in the art of, well, sex. “Do you have any stipulations?”

His eyes darkened. “We move into my room so that guards can take the rooms on either side to better protect you. We’re exclusive, and I’m not one for public physical affection. However, holding hands is permissible unless Pax has returned and I’m on guard, in which case my hands must be free.”

She smartly tapped her pen on a blank piece of paper and began making notes, staring down at her shaking hand. “Is there a sexual requirement?” Yeah. More sarcasm. A boatload of it.

“No. Just a promise that if we do have sex, you’ll get off a minimum of four times.”

She gulped, her gaze slashing up to his. “Get off? That’s slang.”

“I know. I learned it from watching movies with my no w dead cousin.”

She barely shook her head, trying to concentrate. “You can’t g uarantee that.”

“Want to bet?” h e asked softly.

That tone zipped right to her clit. She shifted her weight on the chair and cleared her throat. “The Kurjans, even the modern ones, seem to be old-fashioned. There’s no way I’ll obey you.”

“I only expect you to obey me when there’s danger involved. You’ll give me that whether o r not we date.”

She stilled. There was something so wrong with that sta tement. “Vero—”

“No. I’m the enforcer for the king of the Kurjan nation. Everyone in this camp, in this nation, obeys me when it comes to safety and protection. That is nonnegot iable. Period.”

Had she been blindly obeying him? Had everyone? The guy always seemed in charge and like he knew what he was doing, so she’d followed along when he’d assigned living quarters, offices, and ev en jobs. “Huh.”

“We’ll make the three-month status common knowledge. If people understand we’re temporary, they won’t try to go through you to get to me.”

She didn’t like that. Not reall y. “Of course.”

“I want three months from the signing of the agreement, if Paxton brings the Cyst into the nation, and also if I live. Then I’ll take you anywhere in the w orld you want.”

Her mind spun. Was this really happening? “If you don’t live?” She could barely get the words out.

“If I’m taken out, I’ve made provisions for you—regardless of our dating status. I promise you’ll be safe and that you’ll end up back in your former life a very rich person.” He studied her and she tried not to squirm. “What are yo ur conditions?”

Conditions? The multiple-orgasm promise sounded good. “Um, you try to ask and not order all the time.”

“Done.”

What else? Her brain kept blanking. “All physical contact doesn’t automaticall y lead to sex.”

“That’s fa ir. What else?”

“You leave me be to conduct my job in the way I see fit.” So far, he’d done exactly that, but she hadn’t taken many chances. She might be in a bit of danger with Maeve, but she wouldn’t aba ndon the woman.

He seemed to contemplate her words. “So long a s you’re safe.”

They’d just have to agree to disagree there. Was she really going to agree to this? “All right. We can attend the greeting party tonight as a couple.” She frowned. “Should we be having get-togethers with murders o ccurring here?”

He shrugged. “We need to meet the twenty new couples who’ve joined us today, and it’s Kurjan tradition to have a cocktail party in such instances. Plus, you only have three months to modernize us.”

So, he’d put a definite deadline on their relationship. Fine. “I’ll draw something up.”

“Thank you.” He stood and cross ed to the door.

“Vero?” She waited until he looked over his broad shoulder. “Why?” There was no need to go in to more detail.

His eyes remained hard. Flat. “There’s no doubt I’m dying soon, and I want something warm and good before I go. In fact, I want to be surrounded by your heat.” He opened the door and walked into the hallway, shutting it quietly behind himself.