Once again I couldn’t sleep. My body ached from the lack of it. I’d developed some control over the dark elf magic, but the persistent, driving thrum of it in my body was a slow burn to my sympathetic nervous system. My failure at Marcia’s shop didn’t help. I hadn’t been thinking clearly. If I had, I would’ve questioned more about the symbol that protected the door to the back room. Most likely the symbol had been an alarm, and I’d just walked Sky right through it into a trap. She’d obtained the Aufero just long enough to surrender her rightful claim on it in order to save me. It had been a foolish and noble gesture.

The dark elf magic was affecting my work, making me distracted and careless. If I didn’t find a way to rid myself of it soon, I’d have to consider resigning my position as Beta. I couldn’t let my distraction put the pack at risk.

I’d just begun to drift into a shallow, brittle slumber when an alert on my nearby phone sent my heart racing. I leapt out of bed, anticipating an attack, to find only silent darkness. Slowly, I forced myself to relax and sat back down on the edge of the bed.

Dennis is no longer a threat, I reminded myself as I ran my hands down my cheeks. He was an illusion, a manifestation of Caroline’s mind magic, but my ravaged nervous system wouldn’t recognize sense. I also couldn’t be sure that she couldn’t manifest her magic in a more dangerous manner. How could I trust anything I saw or even felt? There is the dizziness, I reminded myself, the telltale sign that I was about to come under her influence.

Remembering the alert, I slid out of bed, crossed to my dresser, and picked up my phone to see a message from Stacy. I took the phone down to my kitchen, poured a double Scotch, drank half, then opened the attached document. She’d been busy.

The pack’s enemies often underestimated us. They focused on our physical prowess and our ability to resist magic while in animal form. The true strength of the pack was our resources. It didn’t matter how strong we were if we didn’t know what we were facing.

Taking a quick inventory of the pages, I found credit card transactions and cell phone activity reports that included GPS tracking obtained surreptitiously through a game application on Caroline’s phone. She probably had no idea the so-called free game was tracking her every move along with her phone and browser activity and selling the data to marketing companies. Stacy had highlighted a hold on Caroline’s credit card from a motel on the outskirts of the city. I recognized the address. The rest of the transactions were mostly restaurants and grocery stores, most of them close to the motel. The GPS data also indicated Caroline had made a series of trips to a somewhat secluded location a short distance outside the city. The next page was a search engine satellite view of what appeared to be a shack surrounded by woods.

After finishing my Scotch I poured another, then took it to my leather chair in the living room. I was debating my next move when I woke up with a start to a bright room, lit by sunlight shining through the windows. According to my phone, it was nearly eleven, but I still felt groggy and exhausted, as if I’d never slept.

Rising, I realized the glass of Scotch had spilled in my lap.

After a quick shower and a change of clothes, I decided to investigate Caroline’s mystery shack first. Following the GPS coordinates, I turned onto a narrow dirt road that meandered its way through the forest. After fifteen minutes, I found the shack just off a bend in the road. Without the coordinates, I doubt I would’ve noticed the unassuming structure shrouded by trees and brush. The shack had the appearance of misuse. The wood was old and rotting in places, and a broken window remained in disrepair.

Parking in the bend, I turned the engine off but left the keys in the ignition and the door open. For a moment, I stood there, smelling, listening, and watching first the surrounding forest, then the shack, until I was confident that I was alone.

The front steps groaned and bent beneath my weight. The unlocked door clicked, then creaked open. Using a flashlight from my pocket, I found the shack was little more than a large closet—shelves lining each of the walls—except for the wooden chair in the center of the floor. Attached to the arms and legs were thick metal bindings. Kneeling in front of the chair, I used the handle of the flashlight to lift one of the wrist cuffs to my nose and sniffed. Iron, but no silver. I let the cuff fall to clatter against the chair.

A quick search of the shelves revealed little; an old oil lamp, some old plates and cups, cutlery, a few books, a private investigations magazine. This was Dennis’s place, I realized, though it seemed he hadn’t used it much for years. Someone had been there recently, however; there were fresh shoe prints in the dust on the floor, and the chair was clean as if recently placed.

I took close-up pictures of the chair and the room itself. Taking a business card from my wallet, I laid the card next to the foot shackles as a reference and took close-up pictures of the lock mechanism from several angles. Once finished, I walked outside, found a fallen bit of brush to scrape my tracks from the dirt, then drove off without turning around. Turning around would’ve been a quicker path out of the forest, but I couldn’t hide the tire tracks. As it was, Caroline would only notice that a vehicle had driven past the shack, an event that probably happened periodically.

An hour later, I parked across the street from her motel and settled in for a long surveillance. The light blue building was a typical L-shape, with two floors of rooms with gaudy pink doors, each facing the narrow parking lot. From my vantage point, there was no chance of Caroline coming or going without my noticing.

Only a half hour later, a second-floor door opened and she emerged wearing a white summer dress with a yellow floral pattern. Her expression was sober, her eyes vacant as if she were deep in thought as she got into a rental car. I noted the make, model, and license plate. Once she’d driven out of sight, I slid out of my BMW to cross the street. On my way up the stairs, I pulled on a pair of disposable gloves from my pocket.

At the door to her unit, I drew my lockpick set, made sure I wasn’t observed, then knelt at the door. A moment later, the lock clicked, the door opened, and I stepped inside, closing and locking the door behind me.

Sunlight bled easily through a sheer white curtain, revealing a small, narrow room largely occupied by a double bed neatly draped with a light blue comforter that matched the walls. The furniture was nondescript tan—a small round table at the window, a dresser beneath a flat-screen television bolted into the wall, and a nightstand that held a delicate cream lamp, an alarm clock, and a half-empty bottle of water. The carpet was dark blue, patterned with gold suns.

The drawer of the nightstand contained a small blank notepad and pen, and the obligatory bible. There was nothing beneath the bed, or under the mattress. In the dresser I found socks, underwear, pajamas, and a phone charger. The closet contained a handful of outfits carefully hung on plastic hangers that she must’ve brought herself, and a suitcase.

Lifting the suitcase to the bed, I could tell by its weight that it was probably empty. I opened it anyway to find a stray pair of socks. Rifling the pockets and folds I discovered a sealed plastic bag of jewelry that stank of silver. Resisting my instinctual urge to cast the bag aside, I brought it to the window and held it up to the light to examine the contents, at least a dozen simple silver chains. Cheap jewelry, but that wasn’t the point. Caroline wasn’t collecting necklaces to wear. Together with the shack, the chair, and the bindings, the silver completed a grim picture.

Sighing, I put the bag back as I’d found it, then returned the suitcase to the closet. I sat down on the edge of the bed, facing the door, and considered my options, none of them good. Killing Caroline was the practical choice. She’s not a civilian, I reminded myself. She possessed a dangerous magic and had used it against me. I was within my rights to eliminate the threat. I couldn’t spend my life looking over my shoulder, waiting for her to strike again. Her plans were too advanced for her to give up. Revenge was a motivation that only got stronger with time.

Killing her was the simple, strategic choice.

I glanced at the time on the clock. Eventually she’d walk through that door. She’d no reason to expect a predator in her room. Before she knew what was happening, before she could call on her magic for defense, I could break her neck and be done with the problem. There’d be no blood to clean up, which Josh would appreciate. He’d use his magic to get rid of the body and her belongings. He’d scrub any trace of our presence in the room. The car would take slightly more effort to dispose of, but it could be done.

To the hotel manager, it would appear that Caroline left without paying her bill. They would charge her credit card on file and promptly forget she was ever there. Her friends and acquaintances might take more notice. I’d have to send Markos to Idaho to monitor the situation there and alert me if any serious flags were raised over her disappearance.

Josh will want answers, I realized.

I frowned. It would be obvious to him that I’d sought her out, and he wouldn’t approve. I could hear his voice in my head, nagging me.

“You made this mess,” he said. “You got her father killed. What did you expect her to do?”

Until her father had died, she’d known nothing about me or the Midwest Pack. She’d been living her life in Idaho, enjoying her recent acquaintance with her father.

I stared down at my palms.

“She has the right to seek answers,” Josh said, scowling.

She wants revenge.

“She has the right to that, too.”

So I should just let her kill me?

Josh didn’t have an answer, but I could feel the weight of his absent gaze, judging.

I rose, growling, and crossed to the window next to the door. After peeking from the curtains, I opened the door and left.

I returned home to find a manila envelope just peeking from under the doormat on my porch. Carrying it inside, I settled into my leather chair and spilled the contents of Tim’s research, Caroline’s official record obtained from the Boise police department, onto my lap. No arrests. She’d had her share of traffic violations, including one incident of running a red light and causing a minor accident. Checking the date, I realized she’d been seventeen at the time. Kid stuff. The only entry of note on her record was a restraining order she’d obtained against an ex-boyfriend. That had been six years ago. There’d been some complaints that he’d violated the order, but after a talking-to by the local police he’d decided to behave.

Along with the official report was a typed summary of Tim’s unofficial research. From a pair of unaffiliated were-animals in the area, he’d learned that a number of rumors surrounded Caroline’s mother, rumors of mysterious powers that she’d used to confuse anyone who attempted to interfere with her life. They were the kind of rumors I’d easily ignore, If I hadn’t experienced the mind magic for myself. The mother had died only a few years ago. She’d largely kept to herself. Tim included one picture of her taken from her driver’s license. In the photo, she was wearing a silver necklace with a black stone pendant. Caroline’s pendant.

Pulling out my phone, I sorted through the pictures I’d taken of the shack, the chair, and the shackles. I reviewed Tim’s reports again, looking for something I could use to justify eliminating Caroline, but I couldn’t. All I found was a deepening source of guilt weighing on me until I finally threw my phone across the room in frustration.

Later that evening, I was still floundering in guilt and indecision when I heard Sky’s Honda Civic rush into my driveway and lurch to a stop. Even before I opened my door, I could smell the chlorine, as if she’d bathed in a swimming pool. She stood on my porch, drenched and anxious. Her pupils were dilated to saucers, the whites of her eyes were irritated red, and her heart raced from adrenalin. My eyes traced the angry crimson marks down her arm to find the Aufero glowing faintly in her palm.

My jaw dropped. What have you done?

I stepped aside, scanning the area behind her for danger as she walked past me, then closed the door. She was leaving a wet trail toward the couch when I stopped her.

“Wait until I get you some dry clothes.”

She rolled her eyes at me, then defiantly dropped onto the couch, her glare daring me to chastise her.

My gaze was drawn to the Aufero as she set it down beside her. There will be repercussions, but she did it! At last, there was a chance to lift my curse, the dark elf magic that made me a fugitive.

For the moment, I brushed aside my admiration of Sky’s brave achievement. I’d no doubt Marcia had kept the orb very close. Going after it had been brave and foolish. Had someone helped Sky? If she’d had help, she wouldn’t be at my door now. How she’d stolen the orb from beneath Marcia’s nose was a mystery.

Marcia underestimated her, I realized, the way she underestimates all of us.

Seeing Sky shivering, I chided myself and retrieved a towel for her from the bathroom.

“Is she alive?” I asked.

The towel did little for her as she rubbed the back of her neck and down her chest. Her clothes were soaked through.

She nodded.

“She’ll want it back,” I warned.

“I want red velvet cake to be part of the food pyramid. We can’t always get what we want. She may as well learn it now.”

I went upstairs to my bedroom and opened the bottom drawer of my dresser, where I kept the clothing that my guests occasionally left behind. After some searching, I found a pair of jeans and a teal t-shirt that were close to her size and returned to the living room.

She accepted them with a raised eyebrow. “So do you have your own little women’s consignment shop back there?”

I shrugged. “People leave things here.”

“People, or women?”

Women. “People.”

She shook out the t-shirt, noted the plunging neck line, then tossed it at me. “Fine, then you can go back there and get me a guy’s t-shirt; they’re more comfortable.”

I watched the shirt bounce off my chest and then fall to the floor at my feet. The jeans followed. I smirked, crossing my arms over my chest. She had the confident edge of someone who’d just won a fight. “You’re the one that’s wet; I didn’t think you would be so picky.”

She glared, waiting expectantly for me to fulfill her order. When I didn’t move, she said, “I’m cold.”

My gaze shifted to the wet blot on my couch. “You’re also wet.”

After another brief staring contest, she rose with a sigh and went to the bathroom. A moment later, she emerged with a large bath towel wrapped around her and her wet clothes in her arms.

“Dryer?”

I gestured to the stairs, then followed her up and opened the closet that hid the laundry machines.

“Marcia will not come after you for it,” I announced after she’d started the dryer. “Being a Moura will offer some protection, because you all are enigmas. We know there is a bond between you and the Aufero, but she doesn’t know how strong. You now possess the power to do what she has done to many other witches. She’ll stay away because she doesn’t want it done to her.”

“First I have to figure out how to use it,” she said, her confidence quickly deflating.

I volunteered, raising my hand. She agreed with a reluctant nod, her mind no doubt absorbed with the risks. She didn’t want to be responsible for causing me harm should the experiment go south, but the risks were mine. I was ready to accept any risk to be rid of my grandmother’s inheritance. We stood quietly next to the rumbling dryer while her doubts played out in her expression. I considered a pep talk, then decided better of it. She was willing, and that was enough.

After a few minutes, she checked her clothes and found them dry. Responding to an expectant look, I returned to the living room. She arrived a moment later, dressed. After acknowledging the wet stain on the couch with an impish smile, she sat on the other end of the couch and placed the orb in her lap.

“It shouldn’t be hard,” I explained. “The Aufero should do most of the work.”

When I reached for the orb to demonstrate, a shimmering protective field sparked to life around it, quickly expanding to engulf Sky. Orange-red light pulsed from the orb. I froze, suddenly aware that the Aufero had a mind of its own, and it saw me as a threat. Slowly, I withdrew my hand and took a cautious step back. After a moment, the pulsing faded and the field slowly dissolved.

I straightened, clearing my throat. “I guess I will walk you through it.”

Crossing to my desk, I unlocked the top side-drawer and retrieved a printout Josh had sent me, replacing it with the iridium band. Keeping a wary watch on the orb, I slowly extended the instructions to her.

She glanced at it and bit her lower lip. “Shouldn’t Josh be here?”

“You can do it,” I promised. “When you read, it must be continual; you can’t break the invocations. If you stop, then you must start over. Okay?”

She nodded, but her doubts remained.

I retrieved the candles required for the ritual. Preferring not to antagonize the orb again, I placed the candles on the ottoman, then pushed it toward her and took my seat in the black-and-white chair.

Following the directions on the paper, she went about placing the candles in the required pattern. To her chagrin, I made a few slight but necessary adjustments; precision was important. Once the candles were in place, I retrieved a knife from its hiding place beneath the ottoman and handed it to Sky.

She frowned at the blade. “Why is it always blood? Why not a strand of my hair, a tear, a flake of dandruff, or something?”

Withholding an amused smile, I leaned toward her and drew her gaze to mine. “You can do this.”

She closed her eyes for a moment, gathering her courage, then smoothed out the already flat paper. Skimming over the instructions, she placed the knife next to the candles, then quickly adjusted its position before I could do it for her. Her frustration grew as she adjusted the knife several more times, each slight, until she rose to retrieve her phone and placed it beside her on the couch. Her hand rested on the phone, pushing it against her leg as if she took comfort from its presence, like a security blanket.

“Whatever happens,” I cautioned, eyeing the phone, “you can’t involve Josh. Understand?”

She answered with a half-hearted nod.

“Promise me you will not involve him.”

Anxiety gave way to a flash of anger as she raised her eyes to glare at me. “Your constant protection will form the resentment that will eventually destroy your relationship with him.”

I bristled. “I didn’t ask for your advice, just your compliance.”

She shook her head in disgust.

When I reached out to touch her arm, she reacted reflexively, jumping back into the couch. She struck the frame, causing her to wince and clutch at her elbow. I straightened and pushed away from her, surprised and horrified that I could’ve frightened her into such an instinctive reaction, just by the mere act of touching her. Blood rushed to my cheeks, coloring my embarrassment.

“There are many things in my control,” I said in a restrained voice, “but far more that aren’t. I protect Josh because the things that I can’t control are the things that could hurt him the most. You may not see the point of what I do, but there is one. I ask that you respect that. Please,” I stressed, “don’t involve him.”

She offered a begrudging nod as she massaged her elbow, then slowly slid off the front edge of the couch and knelt next to the ottoman. Relieved, I took my place next to her.

With the Aufero in one hand, she stretched the other arm across the ottoman, leaving her palm up. My heart raced as I stared at her hand, afraid to touch it. I closed my eyes and took several slow, deep breaths to calm myself, then looked to Sky for approval. She scrutinized me for a moment, perhaps surprised at my deference, then nodded. Slowly, I laid my hand over hers. When she didn’t flinch, I weaved my fingers into hers and felt the slight squeeze of her acceptance.

“Please,” I whispered, “don’t get Josh involved.”

She nodded again, seemingly sincere, but I knew if something happened to me, if the ritual went truly wrong, she would call him to save me. If I pressed her, she would admit it, but no amount of arguing would change her mind. I gave her a warm, appreciative smile and she smiled back.

Concentrating, I allowed my own doubts to melt away and shared my strength and confidence with Sky the way only Alphas could.

Visibly bolstered, she began to recite the invocation from the paper. Following along from memory, I slipped back onto my heels, waiting for my part of the ritual. When the time came, I picked up the knife and gently cut a long shallow line across her palm, just enough to draw a faint trickle of blood. Ignoring the sting, she continued the invocation, passing the Aufero to her cut hand, where the orb came into contact with her blood.

At the required moment, I drew the knife across my palm, then placed it over top of the orb.

A hostile wind rushed into the room as if through an opened door, creating a wailing sound as it snuffed out the flames of the candles. The wind whipped about, gathering loose books and candles and other objects and flung them in an increasingly violent storm. Glass shattered. The Aufero expanded until I thought it might burst, casting a stifling magic that descended on us like a smothering shroud. Suddenly the orb collapsed to its original shape, then expanded again, this time releasing a force that sent us tumbling from the ottoman.

Sky crashed into the bookcase, toppling it. I barely managed to drape my body over hers, absorbing the weighty impact on my back with a grunt as books spilled over us. Resisting the wind, I threw off the bookcase, but continued to shield her body with mine, absorbing the impact of flying objects until the wind finally died. The magic retreated, and an eerie calm descended over the room.

Expecting the Aufero to react with a new, more powerful burst of magic, we remained entwined on the floor, gazing into each other’s eyes. For a moment, I was lost there, entranced by the warmth of her body against mine. Instinctively, I bent to her neck and lightly brushed my lips against her skin. Her head turned almost imperceptibly, inviting my touch, and I felt a rush of anticipation fill my body. She relaxed against me, her heart calming faster than mine as we listened to each other’s beats.

“Are you okay?” I finally whispered.

Slowly, reluctantly, she nodded.

Swallowing my desire, I lifted from her, pushing aside the books and debris that spilled from my backside. Once standing, I helped her to her feet. The Aufero remained on the ottoman, its orange-red glow stifled now, replaced by a dark fog within the orb. It remained active, vibrating and throbbing until it expanded once more. Anticipating another burst of magic, I positioned myself protectively in front of Sky, but then the orb snapped back to its normal size. A battle seemed to continue inside of it as it alternated between bright and subdued colors, until it finally settled on a dull burnt orange and became suddenly still.

Had it worked?

I froze, tuning into my body. The disconcerting thrum of the dark elf magic was gone. For the first time since my grandmother had died, I felt like myself. Suddenly panicking, I reached for my mother’s magic and found it. Panic gave way to relief.

“How do you feel?” Sky asked, her gaze still fixed on the orb.

“Fine,” I said, surprised.

The orb, it seemed, had permanently changed, as if marred by the magic it had absorbed from me. Wary of it, I picked up the scattered candles and returned them to the kitchen cabinet. My movements were sluggish; I felt drained but relieved. We set about cleaning up the living room, avoiding each other’s gazes while silently acknowledging the tension between us. By the time she finally broke the silence, the tension had become unbearable.

“If your grandmother was able to hide,” she said, “I’m sure there are others. We can use the Aufero to convince the elves that they no longer need to ‘contain’ the dark elves, but instead remove their magic.”

I offered her a comforting smile. Dark elves possessed a dangerous, deadly power that none of the factions could tolerate. It would always be easier to kill power than to tame it.

“I’m serious,” she said.

“I know. You want to save the world, but realistically, you can’t,” I gently admonished her. At her core, she remained stubbornly altruistic, untainted by the moral flexibility that pervaded our world. Better to serve a cause than an ideal, I felt, but I admired her conviction. She was not easily swayed from her moral center.

“No, not the world,” she said defensively, “just people given a death sentence for being born into something they can’t help. Maybe we could work out something with Mason and save the lives of these people.”

She carried on her argument for some time before I interrupted. “Letting everyone know you have the Aufero and what you are capable of doing with it isn’t a good idea. You are part of this pack; just by association people will be reluctant to trust you because they will not believe your motives are altruistic. They will assume that you have ulterior motives.”

“Then you all need to do better about improving your public image. Doesn’t it bother you that people have so little trust in you all?” Her eyes widened, as if she’d only just realized she was one of us. “We need to do more about our image. I don’t like people fearing us.”

“Perhaps you’re right,” I said sardonically, my irritation rising. “We should work harder at making people see us as docile and ineffectual, deny what dwells in us, and work on people seeing us as soft and cuddly pushovers. Easily subjugated by anyone who would choose to dominate us. Sounds like a brilliant plan.”

Her hands went to her hips, complimenting her scowl. “I realize the importance of a strong pack; there isn’t a need for you to be such a jackass. But what’s wrong with helping others? I can assure you that possessing the ability to restrict those that have the ability to kill with just touch will work in our favor. I think Mason would appreciate that, and if he can’t, then whoever is chosen next might.”

“You mean Gideon.” I smirked. “Contrary to what you choose to believe, we are not monsters. Less than a century ago, others felt they needed to contain us, so we are more understanding of the situation. The three times that we abided by the agreement were unavoidable situations and we didn’t find any joy in doing so.” The memory of the last incident rose to sear my thoughts, reminding me that I’d nearly been a victim of the same cruelty, had it not been for Sky and the Aufero.

Perhaps I shouldn’t be so quick to dismiss her ideals.

As I took a seat next to her, she shifted a few inches from me. “Mason is unnecessarily difficult,” I continued, softening my voice. “He will not trust such an altruistic gesture because it is easier to believe we are incapable of such acts. When Gideon is in power, then we will visit this again.”

I couldn’t blame her for distrusting my sincerity, but I was too tired to argue further. Exhaustion was quickly overtaking me. For the first time in over a week, there was a chance I might actually sleep.

“It’s getting late,” I said. “You should go home, get some rest.”

She frowned at the clock as if I’d just sent her to bed. “Of course, I can’t continue to live this party lifestyle.” She settled herself deeper into the couch, like an anchor. “Tell me about the fifth object,” she insisted.

I stiffened, surprised by the sudden shift in topic. “It’s late,” I said dismissively. “We will talk about it tomorrow.”

“Promise?”

I sighed, rubbing exhaustion from my forehead before answering. “If possible, we will talk and I will answer whatever question you have to the best of my ability. No more secrets.”

She rose from the couch with a skeptical look. “I expect more than answers ‘to the best of your ability’; I expect the truth and real answers.” Eyeing me sternly, she gathered her purse and the Aufero, and then walked out the front door. Before I could close it behind her, she stopped and turned at the bottom of the porch, dangling my spare keys from her finger.

“I’ll be back tomorrow at nine.” She grinned. “I’ll let myself in if you’re not awake. Is this one for the office? Oh, let’s not bother with such trivial things. I will just snoop around until you get up. Okay?”

I barely stifled a laugh. First she’d beaten Marcia, then she’d taken my keys right from under my nose. She was becoming formidable. A smile cracked my lips when I felt my wolf suddenly rush to the surface, warning me.

Danger.

Peering into the shadows across the street, I caught a hint of movement. Chains clanked as something approached. Six doglike beasts stepped into the street, revealed by the light of the half-moon reflecting from the pavement. The beasts growled, spilling drool from their lips and baring rows of daggerlike teeth. Only the thick, clinking chains around their necks kept them from charging. At the end of the chains, a tall, thick man in a dark blue duster effortlessly steered them, three chains clutched in each hand. A rifle was strung across his back, and I noticed the protruding pommel of a sword beneath his duster.

Samuel.

“Skylar,” I hissed, my eyes fixed on the oncoming threat, “come here.”

The chains groaned as the dogs lurched toward her, their jaws snapping, but Samuel held them to a steady, driving advance. She hesitated, her eyes straining to her left as if to drive her head around to face the threat, but she was terrified, frozen as if by a spell.

“Skylar, come here,” I commanded.

She remained frozen.

The elven hounds strained against their chains. They were magical creatures, mutated for war. Six of them were more than a match for me, but I could draw their attention, buy some time for Sky to escape. Ready for a fight, I stepped out onto the porch. Before I could unleash my wolf, the Aufero glowed in her hand. Suddenly freed from her fear, she clutched the orb to her chest and charged up the steps. I pulled her up, stepping aside to let her run into the house, then barred the doorway.

“Samuel,” I growled.

He pulled at the clinking chains, stopping the hounds just a few feet from my porch. He fixed his attention on Sky behind me, and his lips twisted into a cool and mirthless smile.

“Can you read the Clostra?” he asked her.

How the hell did he find out about that?

When Sky didn’t answer, he urged his beasts closer, allowing them to lunge and jump against their restraints until he whispered a command that calmed them.

My wolf’s howl echoed in my skull as it demanded to be set loose. “What are you doing here?” I demanded.

“Give me the books,” he said almost casually.

“You know that will never happen.”

“Of course it will,” he promised, then disappeared, taking the chains with him.

The hounds charged.

Targeting the largest of them, I leapt from the porch. If I could face down the leader, the rest of the pack might scatter, but he was an experienced fighter, his neck and face marred by scars. The leader pulled up short, growling and snapping and baring its teeth as we squared off. As we half circled each other, looking for an advantage, the other hounds barked and gnashed their teeth, waiting for blood.

Surrendering to the primitive ferocity of my wolf, I slammed into the leader just before it leapt, driving it back. Its jaws clamped on to my left arm, its teeth piercing my flesh. Ignoring the pain, I hammered my right fist into the hound’s ribs, blow after blow. The unusually dense bone refused to break, but the rain of blows loosened the hound’s grip. Pulling my arm free, I slipped around the hound, wrapped my arm around its neck, gripped its jaw, and twisted. Bone snapped. The body went slack and I released it, allowing the hound to collapse to the ground in a heap.

Another hound leapt, its teeth reaching for my throat. Turning, I struck the animal in the side, sending it sprawling across the grass.

Sky cried out from inside the house. Glancing around, I realized with panic that two of the hounds were scrambling in the doorway. Two other hounds were already inside. Howling my rage, I charged up the steps, took one of the hounds two-handed by the scruff, and hurled it toward the driveway. The other hound turned, snapping its teeth at my hands until I kicked in its skull with my boot.

Inside, Sky was on the floor of the entryway, a hound clamped on to her leg. Her face was scrunched in violent rage as she drove her elbow into its head, forcing it to release her. Before it could lunge, she raised the glowing Aufero. Magic hurled the animal into the wall next to me.

Believing herself safe, she looked to me with a shocked, relieved expression, unaware of the hound crouching behind her. Leaping over her, I slammed into the hound as it pounced, driving it back into the wall, then snapped its neck.

I heard Sky’s gasp as two of the hounds I’d left outside came into the house. The hound Sky had knocked from her leg rallied. Together the three remaining hounds growled and snarled as they encircled us. The orb glowed a dirty orange in her hand as she held it out at them in warning, but they remained determined. Crouching, wary of every movement, I slowly backed up to Sky. The moment she felt me against her, a strong protective field formed around us. Deprived of their prey, the hounds flung themselves against the field with ferocious abandon. It wavered beneath the weight of their rabid assault but held.

My relief quickly faded as I realized something was wrong with the magic. The field was dull gray in color, like a fog. Within it, the air was growing increasingly thin, as if the field was drawing out the oxygen. Already we were panting.

Soon, Sky would have to lower the field and we’d be forced to deal with the hounds. If necessary, I could occupy two of them, but that would still leave one for her to deal with. The orb might help her escape, but in a direct fight she was no match for an elven hound; few were. I scanned the entryway, looking for a path to escape.

Amid the snarling growls and barks of the hounds, a whimpering emerged. Their attacks seemed increasingly weak, as if each strike against the field weakened them. The animals refused to relent. Even after one of the hounds collapsed, apparently dead, the assault continued. A second hound quickly fell, leaving just one more, but my muscles were weak from oxygen deprivation.

Sky’s gaze was fixed on the hound. Her chest heaved, her lungs straining for oxygen. She was close to losing consciousness. She needed to lower the field and let me distract the hound. I could put up enough of a fight for her to escape. I tried to call her name to get her attention but failed to create more than a squeak.

The last hound finally whimpered and collapsed.

The field disappeared and oxygen rushed into our lungs. For a moment, we sat there catching our breath, but we weren’t safe. Samuel would come back. We were in no condition to take on a witch of his power.

Grabbing Sky’s hand, I led her outside toward the garage. When I saw the door had been torn open, I knew Samuel had disabled all five of the vehicles inside. The tires of my dark green Hummer were blown out. The same was true of my SUV, Mercedes-Benz S Class, and Jaguar XJ. I felt a rush of pure hatred as I saw my newest addition to the collection, a red 1967 Ferrari GTB, sitting on its rims. No doubt the engines had been rendered inoperable, as well.

Cursing under my breath, I pulled Sky after me to the backyard and through a narrow gap in the thicket there. With my free hand in front of me, I crashed through the overgrown brush until we entered the small clearing where I kept a Jeep Rubicon in case of emergencies. Finding the key fob underneath the front bumper, I unlocked the doors and gestured for Sky to get in.

She obeyed without question.

“Do you have your phone?” I asked, starting the engine.

“Not with me. I left it in my car.”

I reached across her and retrieved a flip phone from the glove box, then dialed the first number on the speed dial. Josh answered immediately, his voice tense.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, recognizing my emergency number.

“Samuel’s in town. He has the third book and wants the other two.” He unleashed a stream of obscenities. “You need to get out of there. Go to the cabin.”

“Okay.”

Through the phone, I heard a loud blast, followed by a crack and then something heavy hitting the floor.

“Josh!” I shouted.

I heard grunting, glass shattering, and then the line went dead. When I tried his number again, it went straight to voice mail. I sped as fast as I could to his house, carelessly weaving through traffic while Sky glanced anxiously behind us, as if the hounds were going to appear on our tail at any moment.

As Josh’s house came into view, I felt the air forced from my lungs. For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. The front door was open, hanging on a single hinge. I brought the Jeep to a sudden, screeching halt in the driveway, then leapt from the vehicle. Running inside, I discovered broken furniture and glass, but no bodies. Josh was gone, leaving behind the distinct feeling of his magic, freshly used. Samuel’s magic was there, as well.

Had Samuel taken him, or had he disposed of my brother’s body with the same ease Josh had practiced dozens of times for the pack? Frantically, I kicked through the debris for proof of life or death. Dread washed over me as I uncovered first a splatter of blood, then a nearby knife, wet blood dulling its sheen.

Sky gasped.

I picked up the knife and sniffed the blood. “It isn’t his,” I said, relieved.

“But this is,” she whispered.

Following her gesture, I found a trail of blood that led to the bedroom. I ran down the hall and found the room in violent disarray. The bed had been turned and the mattress thrown from it. The dresser was half embedded in a wall, and every one of the windows had been blown out.

The fight had started in the living room. Josh had been wounded and made a last stand here. Tearing through the debris, I assured myself that there was no final pool of blood, no splatter on the walls from a mortal wound. He’d been taken or fled, but Samuel’s magic in the room was dominant. The chances Josh had escaped were low.

Even as I ran back to the Jeep, I knew I wouldn’t find my brother at the cabin, but I had to try. Sky jumped into the passenger seat just as I put the Jeep into reverse and sped back onto the road.

The cabin was a rural farmhouse that Josh and I maintained as a personal retreat of last resort. Its existence was a secret, even from the pack. My last hope was crushed as I turned into the empty driveway. The house was dark. Had Josh taken refuge inside and feared pursuit, there would be a subtle red LED light blinking in the corner of the front window.

I had to be sure.

After retrieving a flashlight from the glove compartment, I tested the front door, hoping it was locked. It swung open. The echo of Samuel’s magic washed over me, along with the scent of his hounds. Stepping inside, I found everything was in place. I realized with dread that Samuel hadn’t come to the house in pursuit of Josh. Samuel had come to make a point. I know your secrets.

Dreading what came next, I walked into the kitchen and found his note on the counter. Reading it, I cursed and growled and swore vengeance if he harmed my brother. If necessary, I’d abandon Sky and the pack and everything I’d built to spend my life hunting him down. At least, for the moment, I knew Josh was alive; Samuel wanted the Clostra.

Sky’s family had said they’d been working with a witch, and I’d been foolish not to investigate who. I’d never have guessed it would be Samuel.

She followed me back to the Jeep, watching me closely. She appeared shaken, as if she’d never believed Josh could be beaten.

Wherever Samuel held Josh, it was close. Magical transportation had a limited range, and I doubted Samuel would’ve taken the risk of trying to stuff my brother into a car. Besides, Samuel wasn’t going to leave the area until he obtained what he wanted.

He was smart enough to know I’d comb the city looking for him. I doubted he’d stash Josh in one of the properties he’d been known to use previously, but the obvious couldn’t be overlooked. One by one, I sped to the houses and ransacked them, looking for hidden rooms and anything Josh might’ve left behind to indicate he’d been there.

All I found was dust.

When the last house failed to yield even a clue, I tore it apart in a fit of frustration. Sky kept her distance, watching wide-eyed until the core of my rage was spent and I’d run out of furniture to destroy. The sick feeling in my gut remained.

“Ethan,” she said softly.

“He’s gone,” I whispered, unable to meet her gaze, then walked out of the house.

En route back to the retreat, I called Sebastian and filled him in. When I walked in the front door, he was in the entryway, waiting with Marko, Gavin, Winter, and a few other members of the pack.

“It was definitely Samuel?” Sebastian asked.

I nodded, handing him the ransom note.

His jaw clenched as he read. “He thinks we are stupid enough to drop the books off at some disclosed location and trust that he will release Josh. How arrogant.”

“I don’t know how he knew we had the books,” I said, pacing in an attempt to control my rage. Time mattered. Throwing another tantrum would only waste time Josh didn’t have. “I am sure Samuel thought Josh had them in his possession. The house was trashed.” I knew exactly what was going through Sebastian’s mind as he watched me pace. If the spells against were-animals were used, we could be wiped out. We didn’t know why Samuel wanted the Clostra, but there was no chance Sebastian would allow the books to leave our hands.

He also knew I wouldn’t abandon my brother.

We could give up the books, then hunt Samuel down once Josh was returned. Every one of the packs could be called upon to help. Sebastian would resist, but he could be brought to reason. If not, I’d act on my own initiative. I could retrieve the books before any damage was done. Ask for forgiveness later.

“Ethan,” Sebastian said, his voice deliberately soothing, but there was a tension there, a subtle warning. “We cannot give him the books for Josh. I can’t let that happen.”

I blanched, turning my anger on him, then returned to pacing. I need to be calm. Sebastian was just as worried as I was. He wouldn’t abandon Josh. He wasn’t going to risk the pack, either, but I would. I’d risk everything to get my brother back. I’d steal the Clostra if I had to, or challenge Sebastian for the pack’s leadership.

I felt his anger rising in the room, meeting mine. Before I could confront him, Winter stepped between us, an unusually casual gesture calculated to cut the tension rather than inflate it. Sky joined her, her expression anxious but defiant.

“I need Josh back,” I growled, pacing.

Sebastian nodded. “I know.”

“Samuel has elven hounds with him.”

Sky suggested, “Maybe we can track the animals. Their scent should still be in Ethan’s house. It is quite strong and very distinctive.”

“We can,” Sebastian acknowledged, “but that will take time; even with our best hunters that could take days. We may not have days. Samuel isn’t known for his patience.”

Winter spoke for the first time. “There is no way he’s in town and Marcia isn’t aware of it. She makes it her business to know where he is. Power like that can’t go undetected very long. They can find him.”

“Are you sure she will know?” he challenged. “Our surveillance lost him three months ago.”

Winter remained confident. “If anyone will know of his whereabouts, it’s her.”

Marcia will never help us!

“I’ll arrange a meeting,” Sebastian said, his gaze settling on me for a moment, then started toward his office.

We’re wasting time!

Sky called after him. “When you call her, tell her that if she helps us find Josh, she can have the Aufero.”

I stopped, taken aback. Sebastian was surprised as well. His wary gaze shifted from Sky to me as he debated whether to ask how and when we’d obtained the orb. My eyes remained locked on her, my mouth agape. The Aufero was her birthright, a magical object of immense power that creatures in our world would kill and die for. Yet she seemed unreserved in her offer, eager even. With a single act of extreme selflessness, she was giving Josh a chance.

“Sky,” Sebastian said carefully, “are you sure?”

She didn’t hesitate. “Positive, but I want to meet with her, too. I have some conditions.”