Cain drew back. “There are no sides. They’re married. And, I assure you, my father cares. He loves her above all else, above The Order, above his children, and perhaps even above his God.”
“Then why the hell isn’t he doing something? Your mother isn’t well. This is no joke! Adam refuses to interfere in their business because it’s against Family Law.”
Cain held up his hands, not wishing to upset her. “Tell me what you think I should do.”
She looked up, desperate concern filling her eyes with unshed tears. “I don’t know if there is anything you can do. She’s just so sad. It’s heartbreaking to see her this way.”
“Should I return home?”
Anna’s mouth moved, but her voice silenced.
“Anna? Speak up. I can’t hear you.”
She frowned and continued to talk, but her voice remained muted.
Cain couldn’t make out her words. Perhaps there was an interruption in their frequency. “Anna?” His vision wavered and an unfamiliar voice intruded their dream.
“Bodies drained of blood… Waiting for autopsy reports…”
Cain scowled, irritably searching for the unknown speaker. “Anna, is that you?”
No sound came from his sister-in-law’s mouth, yet he read the frustration in her eyes. Holding her hands wide, she mouthed, Is what me?
“Did you hear that?”
Hear what? Her lips firmed impatiently.
“Unidentified female victim…” the annoying voice spoke again.
“What the hell is going on?” he snapped.
Anna’s image faltered, dancing in and out of his vision.
A small, dark-haired woman suddenly appeared, and Cain jumped at the interference. “Who the hell are you?”
Anna followed his gaze but didn’t seem to see the female. Her image flickered again, fading and losing shape and dimension. The intruding woman remained.
“Who are you?” he demanded, but the female didn’t seem to hear him.
She held something in her hand.
“Cain…” He faintly heard Anna’s distant voice yell for him, yet her call was nothing more than a whisper by the time it reached his ears. Her image completely vanished.
“Who are you?” he shouted again at the woman standing before him.
She looked through him. “…following the death of Sharon Foster, leaving her two children Dane Foster, age sixteen, and daughter, Cybil Foster, age ten, in the custody of the victim’s mother and last surviving relative, Clara Barnes.”
“What?” Cain’s frustration shifted to pure fury. This had never happened before. Although his ability to share dreams with his brother’s mate was a phenomenon among their people, he had never dreamt of another being. Who was this woman, and what was she doing in his and Anna’s dream?
Angry, he yelled, “Get out of here!”
The world faded to black. The strange woman’s curvy figure fading with it. He scowled, finding himself in an unfamiliar bedroom with no link back to Anna.
The back of his head thumped into the pillow, stirring the unconscious blonde woman draped over him. He moved a curtain of curly hair off the female’s face. Definitely not the intruder of his dreams.
“Experts are questioning local zoos to see if there have been any animal outbreaks.”
Cain jolted upright. The sound streaming from the television and an exact match to the woman’s voice in his dream. It was her.
He recognized her olive skin and dark, corkscrew hair. Her curves were full and generous, and his body responded with approval. The woman on his lap flopped to her back and muttered some indecisive complaint in her sleep.
He had the urge to burry himself in a female’s heat but glanced disinterestedly at his bed companion. Her pale breasts were soft. Cain momentarily considered licking them into flushed pink peaks like he had the night before, but his desire hardly reached impartiality. She suddenly struck him as a mediocre substitute—a fast-food burger when his gut desired a thick, juicy steak.
His gaze returned to the television. His lusty thoughts quickly dispelled the moment the report penetrated his half-sleeping brain, and he was suddenly fully awake.
The woman from his dream occupied half of the screen while a man sitting at a desk occupied the other half.
“Is there any word on whether or not this will interfere with the upcoming hunting season, Destiny?”
Cain scowled. Who was this putz?
“From what I can gather, Mike, the local hunters are eager to hit the woods in search of what could be the next Bigfoot.” She winked, and Cain’s scowl deepened.
Her full lips wore a deep, unnatural shade of red. Black curls wildly contoured her heart-shaped face. Who was she, and how had she broken into his dream? It must have been the sound of the television interfering with his sleep.
“Our hearts go out to the Foster family,” the man said.
A solemn expression stole over the female reporter’s face. “This is the sixth case this year of a female victim found in these woods. Police suspect they may have a serial killer on their hands. Whether a Jane Doe or identified female, each victim has borne the same twin telltale markings along the neck. Whatever is attacking these women, be it man or beast, is draining their blood. The DA has yet to release any reports of sexual assault.”