1. Chapter One

Vampires kept office hours.

Cortana held hers precisely two to four a.m. every day, no exceptions. If a petition for off-hours was sent, it had to be done at least twenty-four hours in advance, with preference given to those submitted well before the deadline.

Last minute changes in schedule were seldom accommodated—and only if the House or her immortal inhabitants were in immediate danger or Drake personally requested them.

Cortana loathed them.

Her schedule was her everything: it structured her day, prioritized her work, and organized her tasks. Without it, she'd be twiddling her thumbs in her office, waiting for the next disaster to strike.

Hard pass.

Between the recurring ‘heads down' time scheduled on her calendar and the administration tasks for blood supply that ran every other day like clockwork, Cortana had been approached by Amala—one of the House's oldest residents. The centuries-old vampire had gotten bored with her career as a surgeon at the teaching hospital nearby and wanted a change. Cortana had scheduled a meeting with Amala to discuss her options.

She'd included Toni because the Elemental had asked for additional responsibility, and it'd been a professional courtesy. Three hours ago, Toni had invited them along to a Broadway show instead.

There was no way Cortana could waste a night in the theatre when more than ten unopened emails were still sitting in her inbox. She'd declined, and Amala and Toni had gone together. They'd come back only minutes ago, arm in arm, raving about how incredible it'd been.

For the first time in ages, Amala's gaze hadn't been shadowed with apathy—she'd been beaming and laughing. The woman appeared to have a new lease on life. Toni had been right—the vampire didn't need another meeting. She'd simply needed fun. Cortana barely knew the meaning of the word.

Staring at the digital clock in the corner of her computer screen, time seemed to slip away. As the numbers ticked on, slowly changing from eight to nine and then to ten p.m., she gradually realized one thing. She needed a change, but unlike Amala, she wouldn't find it in New York. She'd lived in the D'Ancouer House for centuries, and the city no longer held her sway.

Over the years, the plot of land she called home had had many faces. It'd been a one-story homestead in the first years of colonization, then it became a colonial style home before being renovated. Only in the last hundred years had it developed to what it'd become today. Towering fifty-four floors above the streets of Manhattan, the inky black skyscraper bore little resemblance to its humble beginnings—but then who did.

Cortana put down her pen and closed her laptop. An uneasy feeling began to spin in her gut—and it wasn't because she was leaving her office before her work was complete. Already, her mind was made up, and she knew what it'd take.

Leaving the offices, she strode through the lobby, eyes downcast while she pondered her next steps. Questions were murmured in her wake, though she paid them no mind. Her every attention was focused on what she'd ask of her sire.

Four centuries she'd been devoted to the eight-hundred-year-old vampire who had changed her into the immortal predator she was today. He functioned as a figurehead for the immortal society, and she'd served him in any professional capacity he required.

Three years ago, that had changed.

Drake had fallen head-over-heels in love with a young Elemental, and she'd become the center of his universe. With the dramatic shift in his priorities, Cortana's sire had pulled back from the vampire council that'd once ruled his every waking moment. The ancient vampire had become more compassionate, connecting with the people of his House, and assuming more of the daily functions that Cortana had previously controlled. She was no longer his right hand and second—these days, she was more like his administrative assistant.

A metallic chime signaled her arrival on the fifty-fourth floor, the doors parting to allow her entrance to the tastefully decorated penthouse. Not waiting for an invitation, she marched toward her sire's office, knowing he'd be deep into council business even at this early hour.

Three hesitant knocks earned a casual summons from beyond the door.

A wide smile warmed Drake's features the moment she entered. Classically handsome, the vampire rose from his chair to all six-foot-four of his daunting height, the light accentuating his straight nose and chiseled jawline.

Studying her as he made his way around the desk, his brow furrowed beneath raven-black hair. "What's wrong, Cortana?"

Her gaze dipped to the floor, anxiety twisting through her chest. Words that'd lingered on her tongue suddenly failed her.

"Cortana."

The note of concern in Drake's voice crashed through her walls like a battering ram. Regardless of her past misdeeds, her sire's paternal affection had never failed her. Lifting her chin, Cortana made herself say the words. "I need a change, sire."

No trace of surprise widened his eyes. He'd noticed. Of course he had.

Drake softened, gesturing for her to sit across from his desk. "I know you do. Sit with me and let's talk."

And so it was, two hours later, that she'd boarded his private jet and was traveling toward the mountains. Subtle turbulence shifted her within her seat, but her attention was on her upcoming task—and the hasty itinerary she'd put together. Drake had thrown her a bone, knowing she needed a change of scenery—or company, perhaps—and saw fit to assign her to a reconnaissance mission with a pack of werewolves in Estes Park, Colorado.

Though it wouldn't have been her first choice, Cortana's need to combat her current ennui and lack of purpose had swayed her to say yes.

And if the mission afforded her the opportunity to take down the immortals' archenemies, then she'd jump on the bandwagon, no matter which horses were pulling the carriage.

The Denver airport was illuminated in harsh fluorescent grey as she arrived, offsetting the pitch-black rim of mountains she knew lingered to the west. Fortunately, it was still well before dawn.

Daylight was poison to her kind. Though her four centuries of existence had curtailed the debilitating need to sleep while the sun graced the sky, she'd still succumb to burns should she venture outside for too long during the day.

Traveling by night was important. More important, however, was the werewolf waiting at the gate.

Oceanic-blue eyes caught hers the moment she stepped over the threshold. Casually leaning against a white pillar, the wolf's hands were stuffed in pockets of low-rise jeans, her long blonde braid hanging tidily over her right shoulder.

Dominance, as potent as it was impressive, surrounded the woman who waited for Cortana. Despite the casual way she held herself, there was a strength that was impossible to miss. No doubt, the werewolf was ancient—if Cortana had to guess, older than she was.

"Welcome to the mountains, Cortana."

Already she was one step behind. She loathed the fact that she hadn't had time to properly research her excursion or put together a binder detailing the den's leadership members. Being caught off guard—by anything—was just another sign of being unprepared.

"I'm afraid you've caught me at a disadvantage."

Inclining her chin, the werewolf pushed away from the pillar and strode toward where Cortana had come to a halt, never breaking steady eye contact. It'd been ages since she'd had to field a werewolf's dominance battle, but she wasn't about to roll over.

A smile, pleased but more than a touch snarky, gradually curved the woman's lips. "Ava."

"Pleasure to meet you."

Cortana extended her arm, seeing the opportunity to win this battle of wills before it began. Interestingly, the woman gave a laugh, her eyes alight with mirth.

"Sneaky, sneaky, vampire." She gestured over her shoulder to the exit without breaking their stalemate. "Come on, let's get on the road. Much as I love the sunlight, I don't think you would."

"It'd be appreciated, thank you." Cortana glanced around. "Where is the baggage claim? I need to pick up the rest of my cases."

Ava blinked. "Cases? As in—more than just these two?"

"Of course."

Cortana had attempted to pack lightly. Instead of her typical eight suitcases, she'd only packed seven. Each was custom monogramed and set in matching lavender, and she'd prioritized exactly what she'd needed for this trip. She had brought three sets of combat boots—tan, burnt brown, and the obligatory black—to ensure she blended well with the environment. The stilettos had been culled from ten pairs to six.

Ava's eyebrows raised before she directed them toward the baggage claim instead. "Shall we?"

Ava's appreciation of how Cortana had handled herself came through in her cheery tone. A quick initial appraisal of the she-wolf confirmed her rank in the pack: dominant, but not alpha. She knew that much.

"Our intel," Cortana said as they walked, "noted that the plant in Estes Park manufactures both colloidal silver and liquid sunlight. Is that correct?"

Ava's casual expression hardened. "Yes. Originally, we had no idea the Citizens had ties in our territory. When we discovered them a week ago, we were … suitably disenchanted."

The Citizens of the Light, a human terrorist group, targeted immortals regardless of the life they lived, however virtuous. Vampires, Raeths, and werewolves were indiscriminately pursued, and countless lives had been lost or irrevocably changed because of their hatred.

The only immortal race that'd been sparred their fury were the Elementals—and the terrorists had only claimed neutrality toward them after they delivered a fatal personal vendetta against the Elemental monarch.

"I can only imagine," Cortana grumbled. "Monsters, the whole lot of them."

A rumble of agreement sounded from Ava, the pair of them moving swiftly towards the baggage claim. "Shutting down their operation is our highest priority. We've attempted scouting missions several times, but they constantly patrol the perimeter and have defenses that have made it difficult."

Though Ava remained silent as Cortana claimed all seven of her bags, she knew the wolf was holding her tongue. Admittedly, she tended to overpack, but she'd never be caught dead without the right pantsuit. It was her prerogative to be prepared for every contingency.

Soon, they were on their way to Ava's vehicle.

Dry mountain air greeted them as they stepped over the threshold and into the parking lot. Cortana glanced over to the other woman.

"Will you be assisting me with scouting?"

Ava laughed. "No, friend, you'll be assisting me."

It was official; she'd found a kindred spirit. "I look forward to it. How long have you been a part of this pack?"

"Since the founding howl. Back when we ran uncharted across Europe and werewolves were a young breed."

Impressed, one brunette eyebrow rose in question as Cortana saw the other woman in a new light. "One of the original wolves?"

"Yes, one of them."

There was no pride in Ava's confirmation, only reluctance. She nodded toward a white Jeep Grand Cherokee that was parked along the edge of the perimeter.

"Come on, we can make good time without the normal traffic."

And they did. Easy conversation flowed between them, and the hour-and-a-half trip breezed by without fanfare. Fields of yellow wildflowers passed beyond the windows, the moonlit mountains drawing closer in the distance. It wasn't long before they trekked through the steep and winding road between the mountains, sheer slabs of rock stretching high overhead.

Estes Park, the tourist town asleep under the crescent moon, was a welcome sight when they finally arrived. Twenty minutes later, they entered pack lands. The wolf territory stretched widely over peaks and plains, unrestricted by human authority or property line.

As Ava navigated the vehicle into the den's underground parking garage, a hint of anxiety churned in Cortana's gut.

She had never visited a werewolf den before, and there had been little occasion to practice her understanding of pack law or worry about dominance dynamics. Now, trotting into the mouth of the literal wolf, that lack of knowledge seemed like a gaping hole.

Evergreen tickled her senses when the car door opened, and the predator beneath Cortana's skin perked at the howls echoing nearby. It was a vastly different world from her home in the City.

Cortana remained silent as she accompanied her host into the massive den, each shouldering several suitcases. Her pantsuit, a professional off-white, had three wrinkles too many to be considered fresh, but hopefully her hosts would forgive the faux pau considering how far she'd traveled.

Several hallways and a staircase later, she found herself surrounded by werewolves. Joyous yips split the air, reverberating across the timber and drywall interior, the immortals around them in both human and wolf form.

Long mahogany benches ran parallel to the grass-green walls, and the middle of the cavernous interior was open and covered in turf. The pack, it seemed, enjoyed running the length of it while they tossed a football around, and most of their number were joining in the games.

No one batted an eye at her entrance, though a few threw her eerily animalistic smiles. She consciously reminded herself to nod pleasantly, but brushed up alongside Ava as she paused in the entranceway.

"Where's Riaz? He's your alpha, isn't he?"

Though she'd aimed for casual, the query was a bit stiffer than Cortana had intended. Ava's features tightened in response, before her expression smoothed out.

"Yes, but I'd suggest you unpack first. Riaz is a bit tied up at the moment."

"He's not coming to greet me?"

Ava grimaced. "Riaz isn't known for being the most …" she searched for the right word, "… organized alpha there is. Honestly, he probably forgot you were coming."

Blinking, Cortana refrained from reacting to the disclosure. She'd had the Meet and Greet scheduled first thing upon arrival, and this would offset her schedule by fifteen minutes. In the interest of maintaining positive species relations, she waved a dismissive hand to cover her annoyance.

"It's fine; I'm sure we'll touch base later."

Tension ebbed from Ava's shoulders as she bought the lie, and Cortana couldn't fault her for it. Clearly, the wolf known as Riaz was a few pearls short of a clam, and if he chose to dismiss her with his ‘forgetfulness', it was his loss.

He wouldn't stand in the way of her mission. Ava certainly seemed a capable second, and Cortana had no doubt they'd work well together in the field. No one was as eager to proceed as she was: this was her opportunity to find new purpose in life and feel useful again.

Deep in her bones, the oncoming sunrise encouraged her toward sleep, but she didn't answer its call. She scrutinized the space and its people with the eyes of a predator, logging every detail into the mental folder she'd created for just this occasion.

"I'll show you to your quarters."

Beckoned down a side hallway, Cortana trailed the other woman while Ava's thumbs flashed over her phone to send a text. Silently, they strode through wide corridors until the werewolf propped open a solid cedar door to reveal a generous living area and kitchenette.

Impressed, the vampire rested her bags against the natural ivy wall, the greenery lighting up with the ambient rays of the oncoming sunrise. Before she could ask, Ava pressed a button to swathe the rooms in darkness and held out the remote.

Cortana offered the other woman a smile. "Thank you."

"We'd hardly be a considerate host if we allowed our first vampire visitor to burst into flame." She shrugged. "When you wake this evening, scream and I'll find you."

Chuckling as Ava made her exit, Cortana shrugged off her blazer and neatly placed it on the top of the bed. She dragged the zipper open on the larger of her travel bags. Within twenty minutes, everything was put in its proper place and organized by day. The brief itinerary she'd created on the plane would do for now until she got a better feel of the den—and then she'd schedule a meeting with Ava to hammer out the details.

Satisfied, she allowed herself a slight reprieve. She unwrapped the six-inch silver daggers that'd been her constant companions for the last hundred years, feeling whole as she held the dual blades. The weapons were as much a part of her as her fangs, a symbol of her skill. Popping open the sheath to inspect one of the blades, her eyes lovingly traced the curves and ridges of the silver, the ornate lines that'd been engraved across the blade.

Satisfied they'd made the trip undamaged, she smiled and held them against her chest. A happy sigh swirled in her throat, unabashed in the comfort they afforded her.

The deep laugh that sounded behind her stiffened her spine.

Caught unaware, panic iced through her limbs. Before she knew what she was doing, the dagger released from her hand, sailing toward the man who'd crept up behind her without her noticing.