Master of Smoke

Direkind’s version of an aristocracy. Apparently, these guys can trace their lineage back to the original Saxon warriors Merlin chose to make Direkind.”
    Belle nipped a cherry off the end of a cocktail skewer. “What about the rest of them?”
    “They’re descendents of the Bitten, people those original warriors bit in order to give them Merlin’s Curse ...”
    She lifted her brows. “Merlin’s Curse?”
    “Don’t look at me—that’s what they call it. Anyway, the Chosen seem to have gotten a little inbred and squirrelly over the past fifteen hundred years. Some of them are members of what Diana described as a religious cult, but she didn’t know much about the cult leader.”
    “Warlock?”
    “That’s my guess. Evidently there are a whole lot of legends and not much fact about him. The story is that Merlin gave Warlock the ability to work magic in case the Direkind should ever need to go into battle against us.”
    Belle frowned. “Why just one werewolf? Why not all of them?”
    Tristan shrugged powerful shoulders inside the blue oxford cloth shirt that brought out the color of his eyes. “Apparently Merlin wanted them to be immune to magic, and you can’t be immune to magic and work it at the same time.”
    “What I don’t understand is why he thought he needed somebody to fight us to begin with,” Belle took another sip, enjoying the pleasant buzz that was beginning to erode her furious tension.
    “Evidently, his chosen warriors on another planet went a little power-mad and destroyed the very people they were supposed to protect.” His expression brooding, Tristan started feeding pieces of his Corona label to the jar candle on the table. “So he created the Direkind just in case.”
    “Yeah, but who keeps them in line?”
    “We do, I suppose.”
    Belle frowned. “And what if we can’t?”
    “Then we’re screwed.”
    “Along with the rest of humanity. I ...” Magic bloomed in her awareness, a cool dancing wind she instantly recognized.
    Smoke.
    Belle sucked in a breath and grabbed for that spurt of power, sending a spell after it as she tried to track it back to its source. Unfortunately, she lost the trail as it disappeared like a Roman candle shooting into the night. “Merlin curse it!”
    “What? What do you see?”
    She blinked and became aware of Tristan’s intent green gaze. She felt her nipples peak. Oh, cut that out, she told them, sitting back in the booth with a disgusted flounce. “For a minute there, I sensed a burst of magic that felt like Smoke. Unfortunately, it vanished before I could home in on it.”
    Tristan grinned in genuine delight. “At least we know the fuzzy little bastard’s alive. I always liked him.”
    “And he’s a damned good man to have on our side. Or kitty cat, or god, or whatever the hell he is this week.” Belle raked a hand through her curls. “But where is he?”

    Eva woke to the sound of David purring in that feline in-and-out rumble she’d come to associate with great sex. She smiled a little, blinked sleepily, and rolled over. “Hi, love ... What the fuck are you doing here?”
    There was a house cat lying next to her. David was nowhere to be seen.
    Fluffy hated cats, and cats hated her right back. This left Eva caught in the middle, trying to keep Fluffy from eating the cats and the cats from clawing any part of her they could reach.
    Eva lifted her voice, eyeing the furry interloper in irritation. “David, why did you let a cat in here?”
    The cat opened familiar crystalline blue eyes and said, “What cat?”
    “Ahhhhhh!” Springing off the bed, she slapped the wall with her back. Horrified, Eva stared wide-eyed at the seven-pound black housecat occupying the center of the mattress. “David?”
    “Why are you looking at me like ...” He broke off, his eyes widening as they fell on the paws stretched out in front of him. He leaped to all four feet in astonishment. “Oh, gods, what now?”

    Eva did what she always did when she was upset: she cooked.
    Her knife thunked against the wooden cutting board as she sliced a bell pepper into fragrant emerald slices. She’d already diced tomatoes, ham, pepper jack cheese, and mushrooms for the huge omelet she had in mind. Not that she was particularly hungry. She’d feed it to David, but it probably weighed more than his entire body—including fur.
    Make him turn back, Fluffy growled. We can’t fuck him like this.
    He’s been trying to turn back. For the past hour, in