“He's in love with Susie.”

Rafe's brow furrowed thoughtfully, and then he looked at Cagin. “Is that right?”

“What if it is?”

“Wolves and tigers don't mix,” Rafe said.

“Mind your own business,” Cagin said, his voice a snarl.

I looked at Susie. She hadn't moved, hadn't said a word. “Susie?”

Slowly, she lifted her head and looked at me. “Joe's been helping me adjust,” she said, her voice so low it was barely audible.

Joe, I thought. Who's Joe? And then I realized she meant Cagin.

“He promised to stay with me when the moon is full.” She looked at Cagin, the horror in her eyes changing, softening. “He understands me.”

Good grief, she sounded like she was in love with him! But how could that be? She couldn't have known him for more than a few days.

“We need to get out of here,” Cagin remarked.

Rafe nodded. “We need to get rid of the body.”

“You two can take care of that,” I said. “I'm taking Susie home.”

She was silent in the car. Now and then, a long shuddering sigh escaped her lips, but other than that, and a few tears, she just stared out the window, her hands folded so tightly in her lap, her knuckles were white.

When we reached Susie's house, I pulled into the driveway. I cut the ignition, then helped her out of the car and up the walk. Inside, I urged her to sit down; then I went into the kitchen and fixed her a cup of tea heavily laced with some brandy I found in one of the cupboards.

Refusing to meet my gaze, she drank it without question, then put the cup aside.

“He was going to kill me,” she said, her voice devoid of emotion. “He said he was sorry, but it was his duty. He told me not to worry, that he'd look after the boys, and then he pulled a knife….” She looked up at me for the first time. “He had the knife at my throat, and then Cagin was there, and…” She began to tremble. “I'm cold,” she murmured. “So cold.”

I went into her bedroom and pulled a blanket off the bed. I tried to imagine what it had been like for her, feeling the knife against her skin as she waited for her husband to slit her throat, then watching while Cagin attacked and killed her husband.

Returning to the living room, I draped the blanket around her shoulders, then sat beside her.

Susie lifted a hand to her throat. “If it wasn't for Cagin, I'd be dead now.”

“You seem very…” I searched for the right word. “Very fond of him.”

A blush stained her cheeks. “He's been very kind to me. He listens when I talk. He makes me feel like what I have to say is worthwhile.” She smiled faintly. “He makes me feel beautiful.”

It just proved that you could never tell, from the outside, what was going on in someone else's life, or someone else's marriage. Had anyone asked, I would have said that Susie was happy with her husband and her marriage, but in just a few short sentences, she had proved me wrong.

She looked at me through haunted eyes. “What am I going to tell my children? What if Rick was right? Maybe they would be better off without me.”

I didn't know what to say to that. For all I knew, Werewolves made wonderful mothers. Then again, maybe they didn't.

Susie rested her head against the back of the sofa and closed her eyes. A moment later, she was asleep.

With a sigh, I carried her empty cup into the kitchen, rinsed it out, and then stood at the sink, my hands braced against the edge of the counter as I stared into the darkness beyond the window. Where was Rafe? What had they done with Rick's body? How was Susie going to explain his absence to her children, her parents, his family, the townspeople? And what of Travis Jackson? No matter what story Susie concocted to cover her husband's disappearance, Travis would suspect the truth.

Feeling a headache coming on, I fixed myself a cup of tea, then went into the living room and sat in the chair next to the sofa. Susie had been crying in her sleep. Her cheeks were damp with tears.

My heart ached for her. I wished there was something I could do to help, some words of wisdom that would ease her fears. It just wasn't fair for such a sweet lady to suffer so much. But she wouldn't have to suffer alone. It was obvious that Cagin was in love with her. Given the chance, he would take care of her.

And then I frowned. Cagin had said two Vampires were watching Susie's house. Having seen Rafe's grandmother there, I had assumed the other Vampire was Roshan, which begged the question, where had Rafe's grandparents been tonight? Why hadn't they followed Rick and Susie?

It was a little over an hour later when Cagin and Rafe showed up.

Cagin didn't say a word. Lifting Susie from the sofa as if she weighed no more than a small child, he brushed a kiss across her brow, and then carried her out the door.

“Is she okay?” Rafe asked.

“As okay as she can be, I guess, all things considered. Where's he taking her?”

“To his place, for tonight. Tomorrow, he's taking her away from here.”

“Away where? And what about her kids? What's going to happen to them?”

“I don't know. I guess they'll stay with their grandparents for however long it takes for Susie to get a handle on her new lifestyle.” He grunted softly. “No doubt her kids will have a new father soon.”

“You think she's going to marry Cagin?”

“I'd bet my next fifty years on it.”

“But…what kind of life will that be for her boys, having a Werewolf for a mother and a shape-shifter for a stepfather? And how can they marry? I mean, he's a Were-tiger and she's a Werewolf.”

“They'll work it out. It won't be the first time such a thing has happened.”

I shook my head, amazed at his nonchalant attitude, but then, I guess after being a Vampire as long as he had, there wasn't a whole heck of a lot that surprised him.

“Where were your grandparents tonight?” I wondered aloud. “I thought they were watching Susie's house.”

“Mara needed their help with another matter. That's why Cagin was there.”

“He would have been there anyway,” I muttered. “You know, I don't understand you two. One minute you're trying to kill each other and the next you're both looking out for Susie.”

“I don't care for him much, but he's all right. He's just got a bad temper.”

“Are Mara and Clive having any luck ending the war?”

He nodded, his expression suddenly grim. “Most of our people and the Werewolves have decided to sort of fade into the woodwork, so to speak, until things die down. Mara had a hard time convincing Clive it was the smart thing to do. Sometimes I think he's got more pride than brains, but he finally agreed. The hunters are more organized and more numerous than we first thought. From what I understand, more than fifty Werewolves have disappeared without a trace in the last three months or so, and about half that many Vampires, and that's just here, in the States.”

“Maybe they were killed in the war.”

“A few perhaps, but not that many with no one knowing what happened to them or where they are. Come on,” he said, “we should get out of here.”

He was right. I didn't want to be in Susie's house if the police came by. I wondered again what Rafe and Cagin had done with Rick's body, and then decided I really didn't want to know.

When we reached my house, Rafe walked me to the front door, then took me into his arms. “You should get some sleep.”

I started to say I wasn't sleepy, but I yawned instead. It wasn't that late, but it had been a trying night. “Will you stay with me until morning?”

“If that's what you want.”

“I do.” After all that had happened, I didn't feel like being alone.

I unlocked the door, and Rafe followed me inside. He locked the door and then followed me down the hall to my bedroom. He sat on the foot of the bed while I went into the bathroom to change into my nightgown and brush my teeth. Even with the door closed, I could sense his presence in the next room, feel the tension stretching like a fine wire between us, taut and quivering. Right or wrong, I couldn't help wanting him.

Feeling a little nervous, I smoothed my gown over my hips, took a deep breath, and opened the door.

Rafe was still sitting on the bed. He hadn't been idle, though. He had removed his shirt, T-shirt, boots, and socks. His chest and shoulders were a study in masculine perfection, like a handsomely sculpted work of art. I yearned to run my hands over every inch of him, but I wasn't sure I was prepared for what would surely follow.

He rose as I walked toward the bed, his eyes glowing with need, but a need for what?

Trembling, I pulled back the bedspread. My gaze met his for a long moment, and then I slid under the covers, my heart pounding wildly as Rafe settled down beside me.

“Relax,” he said quietly. “We're just going to sleep.”

Relieved and yet a little disappointed, I closed my eyes. I had always heard that Vampires were cold-blooded creatures, but there was nothing cold about the man lying beside me. Warmth radiated from him like heat from a blast furnace, or maybe it was just my own overheated imagination.

“You must think me an awful prude.” I wished I could be as blasé about sex as most of the girls in my home-town had been. Some of them had embraced the New Morality with open arms. They had changed lovers as often as they changed their hairstyles and nail polish. Marriage was old-fashioned, they'd said. People were living longer now. How could anyone be expected to stay with the same person for seventy or eighty years? I pictured Rafe in my mind, thinking that seventy or eighty years would never be long enough.

My friend, Nancy Gale, had been of the opinion that a woman needed at least three husbands. Number One should be dependable and of good stock, the kind of man you'd want to father your children. Husband Number Two should be carefree and full of fun, able to show a girl a good time, while Number Three should be easygoing and good at conversation, someone to spend your declining years with.