A man will do just about anything for love—even kill. Four down, one to go. Michael Corsi is on the trail of the last man who made life a living hell for his lover. But first, he wants one last reminder of what he’s fighting for. He needs to see his woman and his son before he goes up against his toughest foe. And probably to his death.
Michael is the father of the son Cara never expected to have. The man who brought her a love she never expected to feel, and a passion that she won't live without. She’ll do whatever it takes to be sure Michael returns to her—even it means tying him to her very soul.

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Michael waited until after midnight to risk a glimpse into Cara’s cottage.

From the branches of a tall tree just inside the perimeter of the heavy-duty camouflage spell that kept the enclave hidden from the outside world, he’d watched Cara leave her one-story cottage just before dark. Aron had practically dragged her across the small, grassy center square to the home opposite theirs.

After spending a few minutes there, Cara had left. Without Aron. She’d turned back to look several times before walking to the building farthest from her own. There she’d knocked on the door, spent a few minutes inside then left with something in her hand.

Now, with the crescent moon high in the sky, he stood outside her door, wanting so badly to go inside and claim her as his.

Gods be damned, he’d missed her these past fifteen months.

From the first moment he’d seen her, six years ago in that New York apartment, he’d known she was his.

 And he’d thought he’d never have her.

  The Mal bastards who had kidnapped her and her twin sister when they were just seventeen years old had used them as sexual toys for years. As a querciola, an Etruscan succubus, Cara’s very nature made her a sexual creature. A walking aphrodisiac. Just her presence could make a eunuch get a hard-on.

Since there had been no known quercioli born in more than a
thousand years, the tales about them had become more like horror stories. The females—quercioli were always female—had been demonized as wild animals preying on men’s sexual appetites to fuel their own raging sexual need.

Michael’s rage rose up to choke him at the thought. Cara was not an animal. She was a delicate, beautiful woman who’d been brutalized by the Mal. Yes, she needed sexual energy to survive just as much as she needed food, but she’d never hurt anyone with her appetites.

    And from the looks of her now, she was starving.

The Mal had done this to her. Those bastards had forced her and their son to live in fear, hiding. And by doing so, had deprived her of what she needed to live.

Fury threatened to make him lose control of his tightly held anger. And that could prove fatal. To him and anyone around him.

The strega who’d created his cloaking spell, the spell that made him invisible on demand and had kept him one step ahead of the Mal for the past fifteen months, had tied the spell directly to his arus, the magic inherent in his blood.

Since he’d been born Mal and the strega’s magic was the very antithesis of his, if he used his arus to perform any magic other than the invisibility spell, it could backfire and kill him, creating enough of a blast to take out anyone in the vicinity. 

And he couldn’t die before he’d made good on his promise to make it safe for Cara and Aron to live in the world, not just in this little pocket.

He’d killed four Mal in the past year, men who’d had a hand in enslaving Cara and her sister. He’d made them disappear completely, but first he’d made them suffer and he’d told them why.

He hunted one more, one more animal who didn’t deserve to live.

Would Cara be horrified at what he’d done? Or would she understand that it was the only way she and Aron would be safe?

Hell, she’d probably never know because he’d be dead in a few months.

Would she mourn for his loss? Would she even know he’d died?

Did she miss him with the same burning ache he felt every day?

Just one look.

Yeah, right.