Chapter 12

“I really don’t think I need this much protection,” Lana complained as Max, Zane, Brooks, and Trey followed her into her parents’ house.

She would rather not have come at all, but her mother needed a prescription she took daily as well as a few other personal items. Lana figured she could use some stuff, too, since now the plan was for her to stay at the SWAT compound until the hunters could be caught. She hadn’t packed very much when she’d left in a huff the other day, and Max said there weren’t a whole lot of creature comforts there. Brooks had volunteered to pick up what she and her mom needed, but Lana didn’t really feel like having the big SWAT guy going through her panty drawer. Besides, it wasn’t likely the hunters would come back here, especially in broad daylight.

“We’re not going to let anything happen to the newest member of our Pack,” Zane said in that charming British accent of his. “So you might as well get used to it.”

“Just think of us as the four big brothers you never had,” Brooks added.

“Well, three brothers and a boyfriend,” Trey clarified, his blue eyes serious. “Otherwise, the analogy is a little creepy.”

Lana couldn’t help but laugh. Maybe it was the whole Pack thing, but it felt like these guys were already her brothers. Really tall, really muscular brothers. Having Max around made her feel safe, but having these other guys wasn’t bad for backup.

Her sense of humor faded as soon as she stepped through the front door of her parents’ place and saw the crime scene tape and broken furniture. Max quickly hustled her upstairs, but it was too late. The signs of violence—and the smell of her father’s blood—were impossible to miss. Her fangs and claws strained to come out, though she had no idea what she would do with the weapons if they did. It wasn’t like the hunters were around for her to slice to ribbons.

“Why do my claws and fangs tingle every time I get upset, angry, excited, or scared?” she asked Max as they headed upstairs to her old bedroom. Brooks and the other guys stayed downstairs to keep an eye out for Boyd and the other hunters.

“It’s an instinct thing,” Max said, following her into the room that didn’t look very different than it had when she’d left for college.

Her mom had insisted on keeping it the way Lana liked for those occasions when she came home from school. Lana hadn’t done it that often, something she regretted now.

“Think of it as a fight-or-flight response,” Max added. “Any of the strong emotions you mentioned flood your body with chemicals. Your inner werewolf doesn’t have a clue why you’re geeked up; it only knows you are. So it prepares you for both possibilities—running or fighting. Normally, a werewolf would have learned how to control that stuff early on, but in your case, you’re just picking it up now.”

Lana was still trying to get this whole alpha, beta, omega thing straight—Max had spent a lot of time explaining it to her last night while her father had been in surgery. She still had a bunch of questions, but they could wait until later. Right now she wanted to pick up her stuff, drop it off at the compound, then get back to the hospital. She didn’t like being away so long. Her father’s surgery had gone well last night, but he was in an induced coma to help his body recover. It was scary to think about him being kept under like that, but she knew it was the best thing for him.

“So, you changed into a werewolf when your dad shot you. I changed because of the car wreck,” Lana said as she packed some extra socks in a small suitcase. Max had mentioned that the floors of the compound were hard and cold. “I’m guessing werewolves don’t get created from warm, fuzzy situations?”

Max shook his head. “Afraid not. As I understand it, the werewolf gene only flips on as a result of a major traumatic event, usually involving the release of large amounts of adrenaline, cortisol, and other stress hormones. I’ve never met a werewolf, regardless of breed, who turned because of a pleasant event.”

She and Max were still talking about that as they rejoined the other SWAT officers downstairs.

“Got everything?” Brooks asked.

At her nod, Zane opened the door, leading the way outside. The moment they stepped onto the porch, Max and the others immediately tensed. She barely had time to register the black SUV pulling away from the curb across the street before all four of them closed around her like a shield, almost crushing her.

She opened her mouth to ask if it was the hunters, but the words never got out as the front windows of her parents’ home exploded around her. Then she was being pushed to the ground and covered with a solid weight as shots were fired over her head and tires squealed. Her teeth and claws extended as her nose filled with the horrible stench of the hunters’ acrid perfume. They were using the same bullets they’d used downtown.

When the weight lifted off her, she looked up to see Brooks and Trey hauling ass down the street after the black SUV as it rounded the corner at the end of the block. Max was heading that way, too, but he was well behind the other guys, probably because he’d been the one on top of her, protecting her with his body.

Lana scrambled to her feet, every instinct screaming at her to chase the vehicle, too, and help catch the men so they couldn’t hurt anyone ever again, but then she caught movement on the other side of the porch. She looked over to see Zane drop to his knees, one hand clutching his left bicep, blood pouring from between his fingers.

“Max!” she shouted. “Zane’s been hit!”

Zane howled, and Lana could practically feel the gut-wrenching pain underlying the primal sound. It was the most soul-searing thing she’d ever heard.

She raced to his side to find him shifting, his body convulsing as his upper canines bit through his lower lip. She grabbed the hand he had clamped to his arm, trying to see how bad the wound was, but he refused to loosen his grip and she couldn’t make him. He was too strong for her.

The familiar stench of the hunter’s perfume hit her then. Crap, Zane had been hit by one of those bullets. If it stung as much as her skin had when Boyd spritzed it on her, it had to be painful as hell.

She was still trying to get Zane to let her take a look at the wound when Max and Trey ran onto the porch. They kneeled beside her to check on Zane, who was grinding his fangs together in an attempt to hold back another howl of pain.

“What the hell happened?” Trey asked as he tried to pry Zane’s fingers away from the wound. Lana swore she heard bones breaking as Trey worked, but she doubted the other werewolf even felt it.

“They shot him,” she said, helping Trey by grabbing Zane’s right arm and trying to hold it down. Max got a grip on the left, and between the two of them, they finally restrained him.

Trey scowled as he tore the entire sleeve of Zane’s uniform off, exposing the wound. “We get shot all the time. A bullet to the arm should be a joke.”

“It’s not the bullet that’s the problem. It’s the stuff the hunters put in the bullet,” Lana told him. “Can’t you smell it?”

Trey leaned forward to sniff the wound, then quickly recoiled, his eyes watering. “What the hell is it?”

“I don’t know,” she said, practically yelling to be heard over Zane’s growl. “But when that guy sprayed it on my arm, it felt like lava. I washed it off within seconds but it still left a burn mark that lasted for two days.”

The sound of footsteps on the porch made her look up. Brooks stood there, his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath, his blue-gray eyes filled with concern as Zane continued to writhe in pain.

“We have to go,” he said. “Neighbors are starting to come out to see what the hell all this noise is about. Can we move him?”

Trey and Max exchanged looks, clearly torn at the idea of moving Zane, who was going through uncontrollable shifts now.

“We have to do something,” Trey said, his words coming out way calmer than Lana felt. “I need to get the bullet out and probably flush the wound to get rid of the poison.”

“I’ll carry him,” Brooks said.

Lana immediately moved out of the way along with Max and Trey. Despite how much Zane was thrashing around, Brooks easily picked him up. Lana and Max ran ahead and lowered the backseat of the SUV so Trey would have room to work. Brooks set Zane down as carefully as he could, then stepped back to let Trey climb in.

“I’ll drive,” Max said, running around to the front of the SUV.

Lana moved to join him, but Trey stopped her.

“I need you back here with me,” Trey said as he grabbed his medical bag. “You too, Brooks. I can’t work on Zane with him thrashing around this much.”

Ignoring the curious neighbors coming out of their houses, she and Brooks climbed into the back of the big SWAT vehicle and held on as Max jumped behind the wheel and squealed out of her parents’ driveway.

Lana glanced back at her parents’ house as they drove away, staring at the blown-out windows and bullet holes. The weekender of stuff she’d come to collect that had seemed so important a little while ago was still lying on the porch, forgotten. Zane had been shot over nothing.

“Do we take him to the compound?” Max asked.

“No,” Trey shouted back. “Head for Saunders’s private clinic. This is more than we can deal with in the kitchen of our barracks.”

She had no idea where this private clinic was, but she hoped they could get there quickly.

“Lana, I need you to hold Zane down while I get the bullet out,” Trey said. “Normally, something like this would be a piece of cake, but now, I’m not so sure.”

She climbed around Brooks, which took a little doing. The guy was so big he took up the majority of the space back there. Clearly, the manufacturer had never planned to have this many alpha werewolves in the back of one of their SUVs.

Lana climbed on top of Zane’s legs, holding them with her body weight, then leaning forward to latch on to his right hand in an effort to keep his flailing claws from tearing anyone apart.

“Brooks, we could really use your help here,” Trey grated out as he tried to hold Zane’s left arm and cut into the man’s triceps at the same time.

“Hold on,” Brooks said. “I’m getting Doc Saunders on the phone. I’m hoping he has a clue what the hell we should do.”

When he got through to the doctor, he flipped the speaker on, then threw himself across Zane’s chest. “Trey, do that paramedic shit of yours and start talking. I’ll keep him still.”

“Doc, Zane took a bullet to the arm that was filled with poison of some kind,” Trey said. “The wound isn’t serious, but it’s causing him major problems.”

“Describe major problems,” a calm voice responded from the other end of the line.

Easy for him to be calm, Lana thought. He wasn’t holding on to a thrashing 240-pound ball of claw-covered muscles who was bleeding and in pain.

“He’s nearly unconscious, but his body is going through spasm shifts, back and forth from one form to another. I’ve even got some fur growth going on, and Zane has never come close to achieving full wolf form.”

Lana looked at Brooks in shock, but he shook his head. “Later.”

“He’s been convulsing nonstop since getting hit, and his heart is racing like crazy,” Trey continued. “He’s sweating like hell, too.”

“Have you gotten the bullet out yet?” Saunders asked.

“I’m working on it,” Trey snarled through gritted teeth. “It’s rather difficult at the moment.”

Lana’s eyes widened as Trey slashed the wound open wider with a scalpel, then shoved two fingers into it. A few seconds later, he came out with the bullet, or at least what Lana took to be the bullet. It didn’t look like much more than a piece of mangled metal to her.

Trey dropped it in his medical bag. “Taking the bullet out didn’t help, Doc. He’s still thrashing and convulsing.”

“Flush the wound with as much saline as you have,” Saunders ordered. “And while you’re doing that, can you describe this poison? What does it smell like?”

Trey frowned as he took a bottle out of his bag and began irrigating the bloody wound with saline. “Um…it stinks.”

“Not helpful,” Saunders snapped.

“It’s medicinal smelling,” Lana clarified, talking loudly as Zane howled. “Like sulfur mixed with a mild wild onion. It burns on contact with the skin and can cause an allergic-like reaction similar to a first-degree burn after only seconds.”

“Okay, not sure who I’m speaking to now, but you sound like you know what you’re talking about, so keep going,” Saunders said. “Tell me everything you can about the poison.”

Lana related what had happened at the mall and the other night at the club, making sure to mention that washing the stuff off her skin had helped.

“Trey, how’s the wound doing now that you’ve cleaned it?” Saunders asked when she finished.

Trey studied the wound, pressing on the skin around it with his fingers to get some of the blood out. It was darker than it should have been and oozed more than flowed. A putrid smell suddenly filled the SUV, making Lana almost gag. It smelled like something rotting.

Zane howled louder than before. Jerking his right hand away from Lana, he grabbed Trey by the front of his uniform T-shirt. “Cut the fucking thing off,” he begged. “I can’t deal with this. Cut it off!”

When Trey didn’t respond fast enough, Zane released him to claw at the wound, like he thought he could rip his own arm off.

With Brooks’s help, Lana got a grip on the man’s right wrist, yanking his hand to his side. It didn’t help much. Zane was thrashing so hard it was nearly impossible to hold him down. Cursing, Brooks drew his fist back and punched Zane in the jaw so hard she heard at least one bone break. On the upside, it knocked Zane out, which meant he wasn’t fighting them anymore.

“Shit,” Trey muttered. “Doc, this is bad. The poison is rotting the muscles. Everything within a two-inch radius around the wound is black, and it’s starting to spread. What the hell will this stuff do if it reaches his heart?”

“We’re not going to find out,” Saunders said firmly. “You’re going to cut out the necrotic tissue to keep it from spreading.”

Trey looked stricken at the thought. “How much?”

“As much as you have to. Do it quickly before you have to take even more.”

It was the most horrible thing Lana had ever seen, especially since she had to help hold back the skin as Trey removed some of the muscle. When he was done, he leaned over and put his nose near the wound, sniffing it. After a moment, he sat back on his heels. He looked drained.

“I think I got the worst of it,” he told Saunders. “I could try for more, but if I do that, I might as well take the whole arm. I’ve already damaged it beyond the point of repair—even for a werewolf.”

There was silence on the other end of the line for a moment. “You did what you had to do,” Saunders finally said. “We’ll worry about saving his mobility after we save his life. Get him here as fast as you can. I’ll have a team waiting.”

“We’ll be there in less than five minutes,” Max called out from the front seat.

Trey leaned over again and put his ear to Zane’s chest. “His heart rate is still dropping. That poison must have made it into his bloodstream. I don’t know if he’ll make it five more minutes.”

Lana reached over and took Trey’s hand, giving it a squeeze. “He’s going to make it. We’ll find a way to save his life. I promise.”

“I hope so,” Trey said. “But this was just a flesh wound. What happens the next time we tangle with the hunters and they put a poison bullet through a werewolf’s chest? He or she won’t live more than a couple minutes—if that.”

Lana didn’t say anything. She only prayed it never came to that.

* * *

Lana found Max in the small observation deck overlooking the main operating room in Saunders’s research clinic. He was standing with his arms folded across his chest and his gaze locked on Zane, who was barely visible on the bed below. She wasn’t surprised to find Max here. It’s where he’d been going on and off for the past day and a half since his friend had gotten shot.

Right now, Zane was in an induced hypothermic coma. He was heavily drugged and wrapped in cooling blankets in an effort to slow his heart rate and limit the effects of the poison on his body. He was stable for now, but the longer those toxins were in his bloodstream, the worse it would be for him. Max and the rest of his SWAT team were worried Zane might never be able to use his left arm again, but Lana was more concerned about whether he was even going to survive.

She knew it was hard for Max to see Zane in a hospital bed, unmoving and covered in wires, tubes, and insulated wraps, but it was the only way Dr. Saunders had been able to keep him alive long enough for them to find an antidote to the poison. At least they hoped it would keep Zane alive that long. It was still a race against time, and they’d barely gotten off the starting line so far.

Max turned at the sound of her entrance. “I thought you’d be getting some sleep.”

Lana smiled and walked over to wrap her arms around him, pressing her face against his strong chest and breathing in his scent. It was amazing how much different the world was now that she could smell just about everything. But even with all the scents out there, there was only one that was both calming and energizing at the same time—Max’s. It was like nothing she’d ever experienced before, and she couldn’t help but think that she might actually be able to live on nothing more than his scent. It had that much of an effect on her.

“There’s no way I could sleep any more than you could,” she said softly against his chest. “I’m not going to sleep until we figure out an antidote for this poison and bring Zane out of his coma.”

She expected Max to complain, but he only squeezed her tighter. He’d stuck close to her ever since they’d brought Zane in yesterday morning, clearly worried. When he wasn’t doing that or checking in on Zane, he was outside, walking the perimeter of the clinic’s property. Lana tried to convince him there was little chance the hunters would find her there, but Max would only nod, then go back out to make another circuit of the area around the clinic, as if he thought the hunters were going to show up any minute.

“Have you made any headway with the antidote?” he asked, stepping back to look down at her hopefully. “Or at least gotten something back from any of your college professors that might help?”

Lana and Dr. Saunders had started working on an antidote for the poison within minutes of getting Zane into his hypothermic coma. A short time later, Lacey and Triana had joined them. As a veterinarian, the tall, willowy Lacey had a good understanding of human anatomy and physiology from her undergrad work. While the dark-haired Triana didn’t have a background in medicine, as a forensic scientist, there was little in the way of lab equipment that she didn’t know how to use. It wasn’t the setting Lana would have chosen when it came to meeting the two women for the first time, but at the moment, it wasn’t about getting to know the other members of her new pack. It was about figuring out where the hunters’ poison had come from and how to get it out of Zane.

Unfortunately, identifying the chemical makeup of the drug had been much more difficult than they’d hoped. Lana and the others had worked straight through the night, trying every test they could think of to figure out the basic structure for the poison, but it was a complicated process, and finding something when you didn’t know where to start looking was hard as hell.

Realizing they needed all the help they could get, Lana had sent every scrap of data they had on the samples to some of her former professors, telling them that a prospective employer had stumbled over this complex chemical formulation and needed help identifying it. She knew her former professors, and few of them could resist a puzzle. Figuring out what this poison was made out of was definitely a conundrum.

In the end, the answer hadn’t come from any of her professors or even Dr. Saunders.

“Triana’s mother, Gemma, put us on the right track,” Lana said. “When Triana asked her if she’d ever heard of a poison that could hurt a werewolf, she mentioned an old folktale about Aconitum lycoctonum.”

Max frowned. “What’s that?”

“Wolfsbane. It comes from a very poisonous plant that has been used for millennia to kill people—and wolves. Once we knew where to focus our search, we were able to figure out that the poison in those bullets is a synthetic and highly concentrated form of the juice from one of the lycoctonum subspecies that grows on the high plains of Europe. We think it’s been genetically engineered to make it especially deadly to werewolves, even in tiny amounts.”

“So you have an antidote?” Max’s face brightened. “Something you can give to Zane right away?”

Lana hated to disappoint him, especially when he was obviously so desperate for good news. But she couldn’t lie to him.

“Nothing yet,” she told him gently. “But we’re moving in that direction and hope to have something we can try soon.”

Max took a deep breath and slowly let it out, his eyes glowing bright yellow-gold, his control teetering on the edge. Lana rested her hand on his chest, standing there with him and matching her breathing to his until the glow faded from his eyes.

“How the hell did these hunters stumble on this damn poison?” he finally asked.

“Dr. Saunders doesn’t think they stumbled over it,” Lana said. “The poison came from an engineered species of the plant. That means they have scientists growing, testing, modifying, and retesting over and over until they get the effects they want.”

Max eyes narrowed. “You mean these hunters have been testing this poison on werewolves? That they have werewolves in captivity somewhere, injecting this crap into them?”

It was horrible to think Max was right and they were dealing with people who were so demented they’d actually experiment on werewolves to figure out how to kill them more efficiently.

“There’s no way we can know for sure,” she said. “But Dr. Saunders thinks it’s a good possibility.”

Max cursed, then fell silent for a moment before tipping her chin up with gentle fingers. “I’m sorry I brought all this trouble into your life,” he said quietly. “Werewolf hunters and poison bullets are a lot of baggage to ask anyone to deal with.”

Lana caught his hand and held it. “This isn’t your fault. If you remember, the hunters came after me, then followed me here from Austin. So if anyone should apologize, it’s me. If I wasn’t a werewolf, Denise would still be alive. If I hadn’t led the hunters here to Dallas, we wouldn’t all be looking over our shoulders. If I hadn’t decided I needed to go to pick up that stuff from my parents’ house because I didn’t want Brooks going through my panty drawer, Zane wouldn’t be in a coma down there in that bed.”

His brow furrowed. “You aren’t responsible for any of this, Lana. There was no way we could have known those assholes would show up at your parents’ house again. And as for coming to Dallas,” he added, his expression softening, “if you hadn’t, we never would have met, and neither one of us would have found The One we’re meant to be with for the rest of our lives. Speaking of which, I should probably explain the significance of what that means, even though this isn’t exactly the most ideal setting.”

He was right. It wasn’t. But something told her Zane would be the first to be happy for them.

Giving Max a smile, she said, “Lacey and Triana already told me about the legend of The One. I only wished someone—no names mentioned—would have clued me in on it earlier. It would have helped explain all this crazy whirlwind of emotions I’ve been dealing with since we met.”

Max let out a soft chuckle. “Would you have believed me that first night we met if I’d told you we were magically connected and destined to be together?”

She considered that. “Probably not that night, but after that night you drove me down to Austin, then spent hours afterward talking with me about Denise, I think I would have been open to it, since I’d already figured out you were something special.”

He pushed her hair back from her face. “I was worried I’d chase you away if I told you too much too soon.”

“It took a little while, but we have each other now,” she said. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

He bent his head and kissed her. “Do you have any idea how much I love you?”

Lana’s breath hitched, her heart doing little pirouettes. She’d been fairly certain he loved her, but hearing him say the words to make it official made her feel warm and gooey inside. “I have a pretty good idea,” she whispered with a smile. “Since, if it’s anything close to the way I feel about you, it’s like you can’t imagine being able to breathe without the other person in your life.”

His mouth curved. “That puts it into words better than I ever could.”

“Hearing you say you love me is what matters to me,” she said, going up on tiptoes to kiss him again.

Max wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. “Then I love you, Lana Mason.”

“And I love you, Max Lowry.”

His mouth covered hers for another long, lingering kiss before the murmur of voices downstairs made them take a step back.

“It sounds like Gage is here. We should go down,” Max said. “Hopefully, he’ll have something on where to find those damn hunters.”

They found the SWAT team commander outside the double doors of the OR, talking quietly with Dr. Saunders and Trey.

The doctor looked exhausted, which wasn’t surprising since he’d been pushing himself nonstop since yesterday morning. Unfortunately, he didn’t have the luxury of taking a break because Zane’s survival rested squarely on his shoulders.

Trey didn’t look as physically tired as the doctor, even if he hadn’t rested any more than the other man. He’d stood outside the OR, gazing at Zane through the small square window in one of the swinging doors as if he could will his pack mate to wake up. Even though Dr. Saunders had told him multiple times that cutting the muscle out of Zane’s arm had undoubtedly saved the werewolf’s life, it was obvious Trey blamed himself for doing it.

Dr. Saunders was updating Gage on Zane’s condition as she and Max walked up, and the man wasn’t pulling any punches as he laid out how horrible the poison they were dealing with truly was.

“Even if we’re able to come up with an antidote, and that’s no given, it may not be in time,” the doctor said. “If a miracle does occur, and he lives, there’s no telling if his arm will ever be functional again.”

Gage’s tightly controlled emotions slipped a little, sorrow crossing his face. But he quickly recovered, nodding at the man. “Do what you can. That’s all I ask.”

Dr. Saunders reached out to give Gage’s shoulder a comforting squeeze, then turned and headed back to the lab.

“Any word on the hunters?” Max asked.

Gage shook his head. “The DPD was able to get video stills of the big guy Lana told us about—Boyd—and the other man who was with him at the mall. Their faces are pasted all over the internet and the news. We haven’t identified either of them yet, but it’s only a matter of time. There’s no way in hell these men don’t have police records. This kind of evil doesn’t just show up out of the blue.”

Max cursed. “Isn’t there something else we can be doing to find these assholes?”

“We are,” Gage said. “Becker is hacking into every video feed in the Dallas metro region, using a bootleg copy of the Department of Homeland Security’s facial recognition software to screen through thousands of hours of footage, but it’s going to take a while.”

Trey took his eyes off Zane long enough to glance at his commander. “What about Max and me? Can we do anything?”

“As a matter of fact, that’s one of the reasons I came over here.” Gage looked from Trey to Max. “I need you two back at the compound.”

Max frowned. “Sarge, I can’t leave Lana here on her own. She’s their target.”

“I know,” Gage said. “I wouldn’t ask you to leave her side if I had any other choice, but I need you. With Zane out of the lineup, and everything else going on, we’re spread too thin to have you two on the bench.”

It was Trey’s turn to frown. “What else is going on?”

“Becker and Connor are digging through video feeds, looking for the hunters. Xander has Hale, Cooper, and Alex out covering every anonymous tip coming in from people claiming they’ve seen the hunters. And Brooks and Carter are rounding up all the werewolves in the area living on their own or in small groups. I want them staying at the compound until this is over.”

Lana hadn’t yet met the majority of the Pack that Gage had mentioned, but she found herself worrying for their safety anyway.

“What about Trevor and Khaki?” Trey asked.

“They’re still at the hospital guarding Mason and his wife,” Gage said. “Chief Curtis figured out Zane was injured yesterday and lost his mind. The only reason he doesn’t have a dozen cops outside this place right now is because I convinced him Zane would be safer if we didn’t draw any attention to this clinic.”

Max exchanged looks with Trey. “Then who’s on standby for regular calls?” he asked Gage.

“Mike, Diego, Remy, and me,” Gage said. “If we get a major incident, we’re not going to be able to cover it and protect the compound, too. That’s why I need the two of you back at the shop. I need you to do your jobs, even if it’s the last thing you want to do right now.”

Max glanced at Lana, clearly torn. “We can’t leave this place unguarded, Sarge. If the hunters come here…”

Gage’s mouth edged up. “I’d never think of leaving this place unguarded. You should know me better than that. But simply because a place needs to be protected doesn’t mean it has to be by you or one of your teammates. The Pack has grown enough to give me some other options.”

Max and Trey were still looking at their boss in confusion when Lana heard a door open at the end of the hallway. A moment later, she picked up scents she was coming to associate with werewolves. Two women and four men walked over to them, including Chris, the guy Brandy had met at the cookout. She was still focusing on the fact that her friend was crushing on a werewolf when Gage started making introductions.

“Lana, this is Jayna,” he said, gesturing to a tall, slender woman with long, honey-blond hair. “And her pack—Megan, Chris, Moe, and Joseph.” Then he jerked his head at a fourth man. The guy was lean with close-cropped hair and tattoos along his arms and across the top of each finger. “And this is Allen.”

She offered her hand, shaking each of theirs in turn.

“I know you don’t know any of them yet, but I promise they’ll do whatever is necessary to protect you and everyone else in this clinic,” Gage told her, then gave Max a pointed look. “We’ll wait for you outside.”

Catching Trey’s eye, the SWAT commander jerked his head toward the exit. A moment later, the two men disappeared, leaving her and Max alone with the other werewolves.

Max lingered, clearly not thrilled with the idea of leaving her. Lana didn’t like it any better than he did, but she’d be safe here. She was more worried about him out there, where the hunters could get to him, than she was about herself.

She took both his hands in hers and gave them a squeeze. “Max, I’ll be fine. The hunters don’t have a clue I’m here and there’s no way they’re going to stumble across me. Go and take care of the other werewolves at the compound. I’ll be safe here.”

He still hesitated for a moment, gazing at her so intently it was hard not getting lost in his beautiful, blue eyes. Then he leaned forward and kissed her. She kissed him back, wondering how it was possible that she loved him even more now than she had five minutes ago.

“Be careful,” he whispered, resting his forehead against hers. “Don’t go outside unless someone is with you, okay?”

“I won’t,” she promised, stealing another kiss before he turned to leave. “You be careful, too.”

Lana watched him walk out, praying he’d be safe out there. But he was a cop, as well as a werewolf, and cops did a dangerous job. As the daughter of the deputy chief of police, she knew that better than anyone. Fortunately, she had a job of her own to do now that would keep her distracted.