Silas slipped his key into the lock of his tiny brick bungalow, gaze sweeping up and down the street for lookie-loos before pushing inside. It was a relatively safe neighborhood. Mostly parents with young children and retired folks. But old habits died hard. It was always best to change up your routine, make sure you weren’t being watched coming and going.

He’d barely closed the door behind him when something flew at his knees. He caught the brown-and-white blur by the head. “Now that’s a welcome home,” he said, scratching the mutt behind the ears. “How’s my Maggie girl? You hungry?”

The medium-sized fuzz ball panted up at him, tongue lolling out the corner of her mouth. With one last ear-flapping rub of her head, he moved for the kitchen to fill her bowl. He’d bent over to pull the kibble from the lower cupboard when a rustle outside the window above the sink caught his attention. A streak of black moved past the glass. He finished filling Maggie’s bowl and set it on her placemat, then stayed low, out of sight of the window.

He reached above his head to dig in the silverware drawer, feeling for the large knife he used to carve the Thanksgiving turkey. He’d have much preferred his Glock, but he’d left it locked in his glove compartment when visiting Laina in the hospital. His other gun was in the safe in his bedroom at the back of the house. No time for that one either. Anything that moved as fast as what he’d seen was an immediate threat. He skimmed along the wall, jogging past the breakfast nook, and flattened himself next to a front-facing window.

Knock. Knock. Knock. Maggie woofed once at the door, then ran for her favorite hiding place under the bed.

“Traitor,” Silas whispered. With two fingers, he moved the curtains a fraction of an inch, but there was no one on the front stoop. He frowned. “Fuck!” A column of black smoke filtered under the door. Silas tossed the knife toward the body forming in his foyer, knowing damn well the steel blade would barely damage anything that moved like that. He’d started for his gun when the black mist morphed into his best friend, Logan.

“Well, this is a fine how-do-you-do,” Logan said, staring down at the carving knife protruding from his sternum. He grabbed the hilt and tugged it from his flesh with a grunt. There was a spurt of blood, and then the wound healed itself. It was a good thing Silas’s formerly human friend had become a caretaker last year or his mistake might have been fatal.

“Sorry,” Silas said. “But what the hell are you thinking breaking into my house like that? Alex is still at large. My sister was almost killed today.”

“I know. That’s why I’m here. Polina suggested you’d be at the hospital and I should feed Maggie dinner. I knocked. When you didn’t answer the door, I assumed you weren’t here.”

“Oh. Thanks. I stopped home for dinner and a shower. I’m working tonight. Stakeout. I think I have a lead on Alex.” Silas gestured toward the kitchen where he resumed filling Maggie’s water bowl.

“Did Soleil’s list finally pan out?”

“Maybe. We’ll know tonight.”

“I talked to Polina. Alex’s amulet is blocking her from seeing his future. But she thinks she can do a locator spell if you have something of his. Something he’s touched recently. The more important to him the better.”

“Should be easy enough. Alex lent me his shampoo yesterday, and tonight we’re reading each other’s diaries.”

Tossing the bloody knife in the sink, Logan said, “Cynicism is a sign of an addled mind.”

“It’s not that I don’t appreciate your offer, and believe me, if I come across something of his, you’ll be the first to know. It’s just the guy is a fucking ghost. I’d like to think I’m an above-average detective. I’ve done the footwork. I keep coming up empty-handed. Last night, I had him. He was right in front of me—”

“You saw him? Where?”

“In the country, off of Route 9. He was digging up bones at a crime scene. I shot him, but he dematerialized. I have a lead, though. A healer.”

Logan leaned a shoulder against the kitchen doorframe, his face twisting and his gaze drifting toward the floor. “The list of healers you’re working off of, it came from Soleil and the bordello?”

Silas shrugged. “Yeah.”

“Hmm.”

“What do you want to say, Logan?”

Logan scratched behind his ear. “I saw her with someone.”

Silas crossed his arms over his chest, a weighty silence making his kitchen feel small and stuffy. He forced himself to shrug. “We’re not a couple anymore. It’s none of my business.”

“It is if the guy she was with might influence the accuracy of the information she’s giving you.”

“Who was it?”

“I don’t know who. I didn’t get a good look at his face. But I do know what. He was a demon, Silas. I could smell him across the restaurant. Soleil came into Valentine’s for lunch with a demon, and they were mighty cozy.”

“Just because she’s dating a demon, doesn’t mean she’s misleading me about Alex. This latest lead seems to be panning out.”

“You’re right. It doesn’t. But, I thought you should know.”

Silas turned toward the window, letting his eyes drift with his thoughts. “She was never fully monogamous, not even when we were together.”

“No. She wasn’t.”

“I need to let it go. I need to let her go.”

“But you don’t want to.” Logan frowned. “You told me you wanted to marry her.”

“I did, once. I think I’m over it.”

“I’m sorry, man. That’s some tough stuff.”

If he only knew the half of it. How much he’d thought about her when they’d first split. The extent of his sleeplessness. How the very idea that she was with another guy had made his skin crawl. Only, he was over it now. He wasn’t sure what had changed exactly, or when, but life was too short. It was time to move on. “I’ll finish investigating her list. If I come up empty, I’ll entertain the idea that she’s not a reliable source.”

“And then you’ll work with Polina?”

“I still won’t have anything of Alex’s to use to find him, but yeah, I’ll pursue other options. Plus, after what happened today to Laina, maybe it’s time she put a refresher on the enchantment around this place.”

Logan pulled him into a one-armed hug, smearing his blood across Silas’s shirt. “Oh, sorry.”

“I guess I deserved that, considering I was the one who stabbed you.”

“I should be going.” Logan glanced at the darkening window. “Almost time for Polina and me to get to work slaying the bad guys. Stay safe my friend.”

As he watched Logan dematerialize from his kitchen, he desperately hoped that he would not be safe tonight. He hoped he’d come face-to-face with Alex. And there was nothing safe about that.

* * *

Every stakeout was a game of hide-and-seek. The goal was to be close enough to see without being seen, to hear without being heard. Tonight, Silas had picked out a Ford Transit in prisoner-of-suburbia blue from the department’s fleet of unmarked cars. He parked on the street outside of Starbucks and moved into the windowless back, relying on surveillance equipment connected to his laptop for a visual. The tiny, but high-powered microphone and camera were expertly hidden in the grill of the van. Donning his headphones, he leaned back and adjusted the camera to zoom in on Copper Herald Health & Wellness.

A sudden knock on the passenger’s side door made him jump. He whipped his headphones off and drew his gun, training it on the door.

“Silas!” came a loud, female whisper. “Let me in.”

Rolling his eyes toward the roof of the van, Silas cursed. “By the goddess.” He leaned across the seat and unlocked the door for Meredith.

“I brought coffee and blueberry scones.” She ducked inside, pulling the door shut behind her and locking it. “I prefer maple walnut, but the blueberry is healthier because of the fruit.” She climbed into the back and plunked down on the seat beside him. “I’m trying to eat healthier, you know, because I drink like six cups of coffee a day. And it’s not only the caffeine but the cream and sugar. Plus, oh my goddess, I do not ever want to see a healer again, I’ll tell you that.”

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Waiting for Alex.” She looked at him in confusion. “The stakeout. Staking. Out. Copper Herald. The muddy boots? Alex?”

“This isn’t your job, Meredith. I thought I explained this all to you last night—”

“Alex Bloodright killed your parents. He killed other members of the Lycanthropic Society too, almost wiped out an entire pack, and came very close to taking your life. I know who he is, and I know why we’re here.” Meredith leaned forward to remove her leather blazer and started unbuttoning her blouse. “I need to show you something.”

A rush of blood flowed due south in Silas’s anatomy, and he shifted uneasily in his seat. His inner wolf paced and whimpered. But Silas knew better than to become involved with a fellow detective. “Stop. Meredith. What are you doing?” He shielded his eyes.

“Relax, this isn’t what you think.”

He lowered his hand. She’d pulled the neck of her blouse halfway down her right shoulder. A tattoo of a crescent moon with a five-pointed star in its hollow was in residence there.

“Crescent Moon pack? I thought you said you were a skinwalker.”

“My mother was a skinwalker. My father was a werewolf. I shift into a fox. When a madman murders three-quarters of your pack, shifting at all is enough to bring you into the ranks. I’m a beta for the pack.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“How could you? I don’t have to shift if I don’t want to. I don’t use Rivergate, and we barely have representation on the council anymore. There’s too few of us.”

“So, this is personal for you.”

“More than you know.”

“Why didn’t you say anything before?”

She sighed. “When I came to the department, I knew who you were and that you were hunting Alex. I wanted to be part of it. I was afraid if I told you too much, you’d shut me out. Manahan stressed that he hired me to be emotionally uninvolved.” She played with the plastic tab on the lid of her coffee. “And then, last night, I didn’t recognize Alex. I’d only seen a glimpse before you pushed me down and he looked different from what I remembered.”

“He changes his appearance slightly on a regular basis.”

“Anyway, I didn’t mention it then because I was in shock. But you need to understand: I want him dead as much as you do.” She buttoned her blouse. “Alex murdered my father.”

“Turner. Your father was Grayson Turner. Second in command.”

“First to die.”

A sharp breath whistled through his teeth. “And your mother?”

“Shifted into an eagle and flew away. She survived. Physically anyway. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen her smile. She never forgave herself for leaving my father behind.” A ghost passed behind Meredith’s pupils—a fleeting shadow of pain temporarily escaped from a well-guarded cage. But it was enough for Silas to recognize its face. That pain had taken up residence in his heart when Alex murdered his parents. It was a fire that could only be extinguished by blood, Alex’s blood. “I was away when it happened. Working on a case in Merrimack.”

Silas stared at her as if seeing her for the first time. “I stand corrected. You do belong here.” Damn, he had some mad respect for her. She carried the kind of grief Silas had been dealing with for years. And like him, she’d risen above it and was doing something about it.

Abruptly, he shoved his laptop onto her knees and tossed the headphones at her. Reaching across her body, he grabbed a coffee and blueberry scone. He nodded toward the equipment. “Get to work. You don’t want to miss our big break.”