Within an hour, Puck texted me to tell me reinforcements had arrived. I sat in the stillness of the tent, listening to Penelope’s breathing as the healers took her temperature again, watching the steady rise of the thermometer as her body battled the infectious bite.

“When will we know if she’s changed?”

Sheryl sighed, her arms crossed as though she were hugging herself for comfort. “If she changes, it should wake her up.”

“But she could wake up violent, or not change at all?”

“Her fever tells us that her body is changing. But not everyone survives the bite. Many of the torn bodies found in the aftermath of an attack are damaged after they don’t survive.”

Because crazy though it sounded, the truth was scarier. A single bad guy? They came in every race, magical or not. But that even an accidental, superficial bite could kill? It could set off a race war.

Another text from Puck. Where was I, and why wasn't I leading the charge against Farley so I could close the file and get Penelope back to civilization?

I tucked the phone away and continued to watch her. "Wake up, you contrary twat. I have a baddie to hunt, and you owe a nerdy were-lion a kiss."

She twitched, likely a small seizure from the fever, but I imagined her laughing, trying to break free of her magical prison.

“She’s fighting the change, alpha,” a healer whispered to Sheryl. “Can her friend call an animal who hasn’t been released?”

“That’s my fondest hope, Gloria.”

I coughed and waved at them. “If I try and fail, or it goes horribly wrong, what’s the worst that can happen?”

As it turned out, no one knew, which meant there was no good concrete reason not to try. I reached into myself, into that part of me that felt a tug whenever Gray or the shifters released their animals. The wild hunt, I called it, a primal cry that made the moon shine brighter and the magic of every living thing rejoice in sympathetic ecstasy.

I pushed that joyful release into Penelope, urging the fledgling shifter under her skin to break free of its restraints as I reminded her that there was nothing to fear in another layer of magic.

"Be like me, Pen," I whispered in her ear as I knelt by her side. "I am two kinds of magic, both ancient and at their core, neither good nor evil. Be a siren who runs with the wild hunt…who can call the deer to her at will and make them dance around the fire among the wolves."

She twitched again, and that time I knew she had heard me. I pressed harder, the phone buzzing in my pocket lending urgency to my task. Come on, Pen, the guys need me, and I can’t leave you like this.

I flinched as she slapped back at my magic with her own. Good girl, but now is not the time. I urged her more gently, handing my phone to Sheryl so the buzzing would stop raising my blood pressure and interfering with our connection.

“Come on, old girl. Who’s going to drag me to strip clubs and make me wear skirts I can barely walk in?”

Another gentle push of power, this time like a wave, lifting her and pushing her towards the shore. This time, she rode the power and took off running, the magic in her that answered mine glowing gold and liquid as she rose up and out, thrusting me out at the same time.

The force of her push slammed into me physically, nearly bowling me over as her back arched, her bones crackling as they forced their way into an unfamiliar form.

"You must go." Sheryl pushed me toward the opening of the tent. "The first change is…traumatic. We must focus on her. Go, catch your man, and we will all be here when you return." She handed me my phone and started to turn back to Penelope, but swung around and caught me in a quick, but hard hug, before pushing me out into the gathering crowd.

Murmurs went up from the crowd as the shifters realized that the beast was taking hold inside the tent, that the cure had worked. A few had enough psychic ability to know I’d taken part in it, which meant it wouldn’t be long before they’d be whispering about my part in bringing her animal to the surface.

I'd called Penelope out of a fucking coma. There was no doubt I could bring Prescott to his own. Elated, I called Puck to tell him.

“Get the boys ready, Puck. We need to bring this asshole in so we can celebrate with Penelope when she’s on her feet again.”

I hung up without saying goodbye, my chest tight when I thought relief would feel like freedom. But I wouldn’t be free until I punished the person who forced me to complicate Pen, turn her into something she’d never entirely trusted.

Farley hadn’t gone far. This was his turf, woods he knew as well as any in the pack, and he was more dangerous than most of them.

The heavy feeling in my heart lightened a little as the pack began to celebrate near the cabin. I wanted so badly to go back to her. But I had a witch and a broker to meet, and a fugitive to capture before he hurt anyone else.