All five members of Rogue were at the World Arena in Denver by nine that morning, finishing the last few days of their residency. The guys were in their dressing room hanging out, talking, with Neil, Shane, and Zayden messing around on guitars, when a familiar voice said, “Well, fancy meeting you guys here.”

Killian’s head, along with Zayden’s, swiveled toward the dressing room door. Standing there, slumped against the doorway, hands in his pockets, was Jordan Grayson. His lead guitarist, Eric Reynolds, was right behind him. Killian couldn’t see Diego Martinez or Daniel Burns, but he knew they were around here somewhere since he’d caught their scent. The lupine also knew Jordan and Daniel weren’t human. They weren’t werewolves—he didn’t know what they were—but they fed on energy. Other people’s energy. And to be honest, that wigged Killian out a little. He could deal with his own lycanthropy—had been ever since he was about six—but other supernatural creatures made his wolf edgy. In spite of that, he liked Jordan and his bandmates. So did the rest of Rogue, even if none of them knew Jordan and Daniel’s secret—except Zayden, of course.

Presently, Killian smiled at Jordan. “Yeah, ’specially since we’re touring together. Who would’ve thought?”

Eric laughed and clapped a hand on Jordan’s left shoulder. “He’s got you there,” the guitarist said with a grin.

Jordan swiftly flipped him the bird, which only made Eric’s grin widen.

“Do you guys want to hang with us?” Neil asked.

Jordan and Eric glanced at each other. Eric just shrugged, while Jordan said, “Sure. Might as well.”

The two of them made themselves comfortable on the small couch tucked away in a corner. Eric picked up one of Neil’s guitars that was lying around, checked to make sure it was in tune, and started messing around with a particular riff, one everybody in the room recognized.

“Seriously, Eric?” Jordan said incredulously. “‘Pour Some Sugar on Me’?”

“What, would you rather it be . . .” Eric instantly started another riff, and the other six guys made various sounds of disbelief.

“‘Talk Dirty to Me’?” Killian all but snarled. “I’m starting to think you’re worse than Zayden here.”

“Hey!” his bandmate protested.

Eric just shrugged, smirked, and switched songs yet again, singing along this time. “In the still of the night, I hear the wolf howl, honey, sniffing around your door. In the still of the night I feel my heart beating heavy, telling me I gotta have more.”

“In the shadow of the night I see the full moon rise, telling me what’s in store. My heart started aching, my body started shaking, and I can’t take no more. No, no.”

“Now I just wanna get close to you and taste your love so sweet—”

“That’s enough,” Killian growled, his green eyes flashing yellow.

Jordan’s own pale-blue eyes locked on Eric’s. “Whitesnake? Really?”

Eric smirked. “Hey, this song has a pretty cool guitar solo.”

“That’s what I told Killian,” Zayden said, “but he didn’t believe me.” He playfully messed up the singer’s hair by running a splayed hand through it and quickly flicking it left to right. Killian sent him a dirty look, but Zayden ignored it.

The lead guitar player in Inkubus gave an exaggerated sigh. Then he started playing yet another song, one very familiar to him. Jordan sang softly, “No one heard a single word you said. They should have seen it in your eyes what was going around your head. . . .”

Killian noticed that his three guitarists were eyeing their guitars, fingers twitching, tapping out a familiar rhythm. He caught Ryan’s eye and grinned when he saw the drummer was shaking with silent laughter. The werewolf gave a short nod to Zayden, Shane, and Neil, and all three assumed their playing positions. After checking to make sure they were in tune, the three Rogues began the mournful intro to “Heartbreak” with Killian singing the lyrics.

“Not bad,” Jordan said when they’d finished. “That was off of, what, Midnight Well?”

“Yeah,” Shane answered. With a guitar in his hand, he was different from the sullen and jumpy Shane his bandmates knew when he lost himself in a bottle, setting sail with Captain Morgan, never to leave dry land.

“What else do you guys have?” Neil asked Jordan and Eric.

They glanced at each other; then Eric’s fingers began moving over the fretboard once more, playing the intro to Bon Jovi's “You Give Love a Bad Name.” Then Zayden and Team Rocket cut in with “Stagefright.” Before long, the four guitarists were battling each other—or rather, the three Rogues were ganging up on Eric. Killian saw his own amusement reflected in Ryan’s eyes, but when he glanced at Jordan, the man’s pale-blue eyes were like ice, and his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. The werewolf suppressed a shudder as he wondered if Jordan felt anything at all. As much as he liked Jordan, all of his instincts were shrieking at him to keep his band—his pack—away from any threat of danger. Killian had no doubt that Jordan—whatever he was—was feeding on the energy coming from their bandmates. Although it didn’t seem to be hurting them, all his instincts were protesting against it.

Killian’s green eyes held Jordan’s ice-blue ones, the werewolf’s eyes slowly turning yellow-green. His canines itched as they elongated, so his fangs were visible when he curled his upper lip in a warning snarl.

<Take it easy, Killian,> he heard Zayden’s voice say over the pack bond.

<You know I can hear you, right?>

<Really? Cool, this does work! I can choose which thoughts to send to you, right?>

<Yes. Now shut up and play.>

A tiny smile flickered on Zayden’s lips, then was gone before Jordan or the others noticed. Killian wondered if he’d even seen it, but he was careful not to send the thought to Zayden. Besides, the way Jordan was eyeing him wasn’t making his wolf go away; if anything, the urge to shift was dangerously close. If he let the wolf go, he wasn’t sure exactly how Jordan, Eric, Shane, Neil, or Ryan would take it. Zayden had known about his lycanthropy for five years, but the rest of Rogue had only found out about his animalistic nature the night before, and only Zayden had seen him turn ’wolf. Killian wasn’t sure how much Jordan and Eric knew about him: his wolf had been the one to detect that Jordan fed on the energy he stole from humans. If the lupine had to name what Jordan and Daniel were, he’d call them psychic vampires—and even that was a tentative label at best. Energy vampires, maybe. In any case, Killian was going to lose it if he stayed in the dressing room for too long.

As casually as he could, he excused himself and walked out of the dressing room. In the men’s restroom, he made a beeline for the sink, turned on the faucet, and splashed cold water on his face. Killian couldn’t help glancing in the mirror as he reached for a paper towel. His eyes were slowly returning to their normal color, and his fangs were receding, too. The danger of the change taking hold was fading. For now.

His ears caught the whisper of air and the scrape against the floor as the bathroom door opened. A familiar scent reached his nose even before Zayden asked, “Are you okay, Killian?”

Killian didn’t answer. Glancing down at the sink, he saw his knuckles were gripping the counter so tightly they were as white as the porcelain. His entire body was tense, though he had no idea why.

Zayden’s scent wreathed around him, and familiar, long, calloused fingers gently touched his shoulder. Killian’s thin line of control snapped. He whirled, grabbed Zayden by the shirt collar, and had the bassist up against the tiled wall. The werewolf leaned in close, his warm mouth hovering over the skin where neck met shoulder. His right hand began playing with Zayden’s long brown curls, while his left hand was braced on the wall in front of him.

“Um, Killian, have you lost it?”

When he finally spoke, Killian’s voice was low, dark, and six shades of ragged: “Yeah. Half my human side, a long time ago.” Was that really his voice? It sure didn’t sound like it. “What is it my wolf sees in you?” Now his voice had a questioning lilt, still rough, but curious, too. “There’s something vulnerable, submissive, and he finds that amusing. At first, I wondered if that was all, but now . . .” His sharpened canines scraped the soft skin of Zayden’s throat, then traveled upward, tugging at Zayden’s left earlobe before tracing his jawline.

During all this, Zayden had gone completely still, though Killian sensed his muscles quivering, heard the breath hitch in Zayden’s throat. Zayden’s pulse was racing, and the werewolf could smell the musk that belied desire. He was pretty sure REO Speedwagon’s “Can’t Fight This Feeling” was playing over the sound system throughout the building—cheesy as all get-out, especially considering the position he was currently in—but at the moment, Killian didn’t care. His focus was entirely on the man in front of him—and the beast inside threatening to take him over.

“Now, what?” Zayden rasped, bringing Killian out of his dazed explorations.

“Huh?”

“You were saying,” Zayden prompted, voice thick.

“My wolf . . . he wants you.”

“How? I’m already in your pack.”

Killian leaned in even closer, so close their shirts brushed. His right hand tightened its grip on Zayden’s hair, and his lips grazed the spot where he’d bitten Zayden the night before. “What do you think?” he growled low.

Before the beta could reply, the door opened and in walked Jordan and Eric. Both Killian and Zayden sprang apart, but neither Eric nor Jordan seemed fazed. If anything, Eric’s expression was of the cat-swallowed-the-canary variety, and Jordan . . . well, his expression was hard to read, but Killian thought the other singer looked amused. A low growl rumbled in his chest before he could stop it and he stepped in front of Zayden, claws sprouting from his fingertips.

Instantly the cat-swallowed-the-canary look vanished from Eric’s face, while calm stole across Jordan’s. Inkubus’s lead singer stepped forward, hands open where Killian could see them. “Take it easy,” he said in a soothing tone, as if he were talking to a cornered animal. “We’re not trying to move in on your territory.”

The werewolf’s only reply was to bare his fangs and step forward. Killian’s wolf was very close to the surface—too close. Then cool hands were on his back, his shoulders, and the touch—the effect—of the anchor brought his human side back in control. Killian’s claws and fangs retracted, and he breathed in, sent Zayden a mental message over the pack bond that he was okay now. The bassist’s hands lingered on his shoulders for a couple seconds, then lifted.

Killian’s eyes fixed on Jordan and Eric. “Sorry about that.”

“What was that?” Eric asked, looking from Jordan to Killian to Zayden and back to Jordan. “I know about you, but what is he?”

“I’m a werewolf,” Killian answered before Jordan could, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. He had to bite back the “isn’t it obvious?”, but it was in there. “Did you guys come in here for some other reason than to use the loo?”

“Yeah, your bandmates sent us to look for you. Said something about lunch later on, and, well, I got the impression they were scared of you,” Jordan said. He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Now we know why, although I’ve suspected that since I first met you. I’m guessing your wolf picked up on my and Daniel’s secret.”

“Uh-huh,” Killian said shortly. Zayden shifted his weight behind him, and the lupine took that as his cue. “Looks like you’ve found us. See you later tonight, eh?”

He brushed past Jordan and Eric without waiting for their response, Zayden on his heels. Once the door was shut behind them, he glanced at his beta, knowing he had a lot of explaining to do—and wondering exactly how he was going to do it.

A smile flickered across Zayden’s face as blue eyes met pale-green ones.

Each could see the need in the other’s.