Munro (Immortals After Dark #18) by Kresley Cole

            The newlings had already been here.

            Ren clenched her blade. Did any linger nearby? Though more might attack at any second, she had to check for survivors and radio a warning to the circus.

            She skirted the scouts’ truck, approaching the cabin. The front door was missing, the hinges twisted. Knife at the ready, she entered.

            The earthen floor glistened with blood. Two rifles had been snapped in half, and body parts lay strewn across the space. A severed hand clutched the shredded radio receiver.

            Even after all her years hunting, the carnage shocked her. These had been good, brave men.

            Warmth hit her face. Blood? She craned her head up . . .

            Gasped at the sight. Bits of ragged flesh were stuck to the rafters. She whirled around and sprinted for the truck, her pulse pounding in her ears.

            The pack’s tracks led west, which meant they would have to scale that high ridge to reach the circus. If she took the shortcut between the mountains, she might beat them there.

            But the battle would happen tonight. The safety of her people depended on her outrunning the newlings.

            She hastened to the front of the truck, gripping the crank handle. Would the combustion draw the pack? She held her breath and turned the crank. The engine rumbled to life! And died. “Damn it.” She spun the crank handle again.

            Rumble. Rumble.

            She snatched open the door and hopped behind the wheel. Mind in turmoil, she shifted into gear and jerked down on the accelerator lever. The road was a muddy track, and rain came down in bursts. Driving as fast as she dared, she gripped the steering wheel with one hand, operating the windshield wiper with her other.

            For what felt like hours, she powered along, fighting the wheel, working the wiper. All the while, her mind kept returning to those poor men.

            This is why we hunt monsters. Yet she’d nearly been seduced away from Jacob by one? Her gaze flicked to her wedding ring. Passion wasn’t everything. She could live without it, but she couldn’t live without trust.

            At last the fairgrounds came into view. She yanked the brake lever, ditching the truck before it’d skidded to a stop. As she ran for the big top, anxious voices sounded from within.

            “Jacob, we cannot go back out there like this,” Puideleu said. “We must get into position!”

            Björn added, “And we don’t know where it took Ren.”

            Jacob snapped, “Then I’ll scour the entire bloody forest for her!”

            Puideleu said, “The Lykae won’t hurt her, son. She will want us to meet this foe and save the villagers.”

            Ren ran inside, found all of her hunters gathered. “Jacob!” A makeshift sling supported his right arm. Mud covered his suit, and bruises marred his dear face. “What happened to you?”

            “Ren!” Brows drawn, he limped over to her. “I got tangled up with two ghouls. They barreled over me and sank me into a patch of mud.”

            “Scratches?” She swallowed. Not Jake. Not him.

            He shook his head. “No, no. Got lucky.”

            She threw her arms around him, shuddering with emotion.

            “Ren, I thought I’d lost you! Did the Lykae hurt you? Your dress . . . ?”

            “No, he didn’t hurt me. He wanted to protect me.” To make me his own.

            “Thank God.” Jacob leaned down and pressed his lips to hers.

            She poured all her relief into that kiss, all of her hopes for a future with him. Make me forget the wolf.

            Yet Jacob’s kiss was as chaste as a brother’s compared to the toe-curling chemistry she’d experienced with Munro.

            Someone cleared their throat.

            As she and Jacob drew back, her heart sank; they’d parted as easily as two opposing magnets.

            Even his expression was puzzled. “How did you escape? Did you take down the wolf?”