“How many of those do you have?” Don muttered, floating over my shoulder.

“Enough to give Madigan a migraine,” I said with satisfaction. “If he’s tracing calls, he won’t find my location in any of these, much as he’d love to know where I am.”

Don didn’t accuse me of being paranoid. As soon as he’d taken over my uncle’s old job, Madigan had made it clear that he had it out for me. I didn’t know why. I’d been retired from the team by then, and as far as Madigan knew, there was no longer anything special about me. He didn’t know that turning from a half-vampire into a full one had come with unexpected side effects.

Dave’s phone went straight to voice mail as well. So did Cooper’s. I considered trying them at their offices, but those were inside the compound. Madigan might have enough taps on those lines to locate me no matter how I’d arranged for these burner phone signals to be rerouted.

“Okay, now I’m worried, too,” I said at last. “Maybe it’s time to drop by Madigan’s house for a little chat.”

“Don’t bother,” my uncle replied. “He rarely leaves the compound.”

That was also news, and it only added to my unease.

“Then when Bones gets home, we’ll figure out a way to get a closer look at the compound.”

Don regarded me soberly. “If Madigan has done something to them, he’ll expect you to show up.”

Once again, my jaw clenched. Damn right I’d show up. Tate, Dave, Juan, and Cooper weren’t just soldiers I’d fought alongside for years when I was part of the team. They were also my friends. If Madigan was responsible for something bad happening to them, he’d soon be sorry.

“Yeah, well, Bones and I had a couple months of relative quiet. Guess it’s time to liven things up again.”

My cat Helsing jumped down from my lap at the same time that the air became charged with tiny, invisible currents. Emotions rolled over my subconscious. Not my own, but almost as familiar to me. Moments later, I heard the crunch of tires on snow. By the time the car door shut, Helsing was at the door, his long black tail twitching with anticipation.

I stayed where I was. One cat waiting at the door was enough, thanks. With a whoosh of frigid air, my husband Bones came inside. Snow from a late spring storm coated him, making him look like he’d been dusted with powdered sugar. He stamped his feet to dislodge the flakes from his boots, causing Helsing to jump away with a hiss.

“Clearly he thinks you should pet him first and deal with the snow later,” I said.

Eyes so dark they were nearly black met mine. Once they did, my amusement turned into feminine appreciation. Bones’s cheeks were flushed, and the color accented his flawless skin, chiseled features, and sensually full mouth. Then he took his coat off, revealing an indigo shirt that clung to his muscles as if reveling in them. Black jeans were snug in all the right places, highlighting a taut stomach, strong thighs, and when he turned to hang up his coat, an ass that could double as a work of art. By the time he turned back around, his slight smile had turned into a knowing grin. More emotions enveloped my subconscious while his scent—a rich mixture of spices, musk, and burnt sugar—filled the room.