“Only after midnight?” I ask, interrupting him.

“The pleasant bloodlines can only infect a human at the midnight hour,” he says patiently, giving the new girl the basics they tend to gloss over.

“And during the midnight hour on the next night, they turn,” Vance continues. “But some can scratch day or night in any form, and they can turn people on accident. Those could cause a pandemic and have to be…contained or put down,” he adds, saying that last part almost hesitantly.

“Ingrid,” Emit tells me, and Vance runs a hand through his hair, eyes widening like he can’t believe Emit just blurted that out.

Well, I definitely won’t be inviting Arion into my house. Ever.

“Ingrid has been contained. She hides from strangers. Because of her bloodline, she can scratch someone at any time and turn them,” Emit goes on as if it’s not a big deal.

“Unfortunately, it also turns their blood to match her strain of infection. Her bloodline is very dangerous, and she can’t be allowed to turn anyone. She’s a special exception. Do you see why this could turn into a pandemic if not carefully handled?” Vance asks me.

I nod, because I can see how very much more complicated this is than I realized, and…it’s way too advanced for a novice like me to weigh in on.

“You don’t want to ever mention Idun’s bloodline in front of Arion,” Vance cautions me like I’m that big of an idiot. “Ingrid is one we let slip through the cracks because she’s only changed one person on mistake, and she ran to her alpha and pleaded for forgiveness immediately.”

“Then she started tucking herself away around new people, worried she’d be next on Arion’s list if the truth was learned,” Emit goes on, glancing back at me.

“He said my house is protected, and she lives in my house,” I decide to point out, asking without asking how guaranteed that is.

Emit gives a slow nod. “Remember the part about the knife in the back,” he says like he’s warning me.

“I’m afraid story time will have to go on pause,” Vance says as he rolls his window down and inhales deeply. “Are you wearing your knife?”

Putting my mostly eaten food aside, I rifle through my bag, finding the Van Helsing blade there, along with my leg holster.

The wolves didn’t take it the night they tried burying me alive. I guess they didn’t think a dead girl needed to be searched for weapons, since my bra was also still loaded.

Not that any of that matters, since they threw me into a coffin and freaked me out too much. The kraken got unleashed.

I lift the blade and show it to Vance, before I lean forward and pull one leg of my jeans up.

Emit is texting someone. His lips are tense, and I happen to catch a glimpse of Damien’s number on his screen. I look away before I’m tempted to try to read the messages over his shoulder.

He puts his phone down before I get too tempted, and brushes my hands away as he starts strapping my blade on for me.

“This time, pull the blade before you charge wolves,” Vance goes on very pointedly.

“I didn’t know they were wolves; I just figured they wanted me and not the omegas,” I say in my defense. “And I used the weapon I’m more comfortable with, which are my threads.”

I’m just not great at offense, because I lose track of my surroundings. I don’t mention that part. The element of surprise doesn’t work in my favor when I’m the one surprised.

“You’ve been uncommonly fortunate, Violet,” Vance tells me seriously. “This isn’t the movies. Most monsters kill you first. They don’t stand around to monologue about their intentions or taunt you with what’s to come—”

“Idun always enjoyed that part,” Emit interrupts dryly, helping the subject to change, since he now knows all my secrets and that I’m not an exception to these rules.

“Idun is sadistic and theatrical,” Vance volleys. “Most monsters are quick and efficient.”

The more they talk about her, the more they speak about her in present tense, even though she’s apparently been underground for a thousand freaking years.

“The point is, this is very dangerous, and the encroaching full moon makes wolves even more aggressive,” Vance carries on.

“Hunting always calms me. Fighting or fucking—can’t go wrong,” Emit chirps, finishing up his food and tucking it into a recycled bag from earlier.

I hand him mine to add to it, thinking over what he just said. Maybe that’s why the omegas are constantly…tending to each other…

“The mutts are restless up to the full moon, and then they are forced to turn for the duration of it. They are wild, savage, and have minimal control when around people.”

“It’s why I block off my lands from the public,” Emit tells him with a dark smile.

“Doesn’t always work.”

“People should stay off my land and know better by now,” Emit volleys.

I swear, it’s like they want to find ways to argue. I feel like I’m stuck in the car with two increasingly agitated teenagers right now.

“When and why did Idun get the ribbon on her neck?” I ask them.

Emit grunts, shaking his head.

“When she showed Edmond Portocale who she really was, he didn’t take it quite as well as the four of us did,” Vance answers with zero emotion. “He was considered the cruel bastard back then.”

“He used blood magic fused with gypsy magic, which started the whispers that they were going to sacrifice us for immortality. After all, why would gypsies even risk messing with blood magic, otherwise?” Emit asks like it’s supposed to be a rhetorical question.

Seriously, these guys…

“I said to pause story time,” Vance says again as we pull up to a two-story, yet still somewhat small, cabin.

They both get out abruptly, and Vance comes to open my door. He slaps a gun in my hand without any warning, and I drop it like it’s fire.

“That’s not how you use it at all,” he says as though I don’t already know that. “Violet, this is a little more dangerous than anticipated, because they’re not quite as far out as we’d projected,” he tells me as the sun starts to lower for the day.

I hop out, bend at the waist, and pick up the gun.

“It’s loaded with silver bullets. Aim for the head or heart. Anything else will just slow them down,” he carries on.

“They won’t have a chance at making it this far,” Emit says as he sniffs the air. “I can’t even smell them from here.”

“Your sense of smell is better than a wolf’s?” I ask Vance incredulously.

“No. My hunting skills are just superior to his,” Vance answers like it’s a matter-of-fact thing and not really bragging rights. “And hunters know to prepare for the worst,” he adds as he points at the trigger. “Aim and pull that.”

“I know how to use a gun,” I say a little defensively.

I don’t tell him I mostly use them to accidentally blow holes in the ceiling. I’m afraid he’ll take it away and call me an idiot.

“Head. Heart,” he reminds me, as he grabs a bag and stalks inside.

“He was in too much of a hurry to let us eat, but he makes time to change out of his favored clothes,” Emit says with a roll of his eyes.

“Blood-approved clothing for a hunting trip is sort of a necessity to him. It’s his thing,” I tell Emit. “And you really do eat a lot.”

“Taking his side on this?” he muses, almost too playfully.

His lips twitch as he pulls off his shirt, making me forget what I was saying. I’ve seen him naked quite a lot, and cleaned him up when blood spilled down…

It wasn’t ever sexual. I was a total professional. Then.

Now? I notice the things I strained not to notice last week, when he pushes his pants down like it’s not a big deal.

I don’t think Emit owns underwear, since I could never find a pair to put on him.

“This will take at least a few days. First, we find them. It won’t be a vicious culling. We’ll study them a few days. We need to learn if there are wolves who are victims of all this with no clue about what they are now. We’ll have to test their blood before we even move forward,” he tells me as he gives me his back.

I run my eyes over the firm muscles that lead down to that really firm ass.

“It’ll end quickly when the violence comes into play,” he adds.

I’m still very distracted by the big, not-so-bad wolf.

“So you were frozen like this? This wasn’t an immortal thing? Getting ripped and perfect and all that?” I ask just to clarify.

He turns and looks over his shoulder at me, smirking.

“To be fair, times required a certain level of fitness to stay on the road and constantly ready to fight. Strapping hunters kept people fed and kept people alive.” He glances at the cabin and back at me. “Just in case things do get bad, squeeze out all that toothpaste. It’ll confuse them, since to them, your blood smells just the same. They’ll not know any different, and you can hide.”

I lift the gun. “I have protection,” I remind him.

“You don’t look like much of a marksmen,” he adds, once more struggling not to grin.

I roll my eyes and lift the gun. “Actually, I’m rather handy with—”

As if the universe wants to humble me a bit, the gun drops from my hand, and Emit’s eyes widen just as it hits the ground and fires.

There’s a high pitch scream in the air, signaling I’ve just gone and killed something. My gaze darts around until it lands on the rapidly deflating tire I’ve shot…

“On second thought, I’ll hide,” I tell him, as he jogs around in all his naked, perfect glory, and stares down at my victim.

“Was that a fucking gunshot?” Vance shouts from the railing.

I swing my gaze up to find him in a black tactical outfit, as he glares down at me. He’s definitely going to think I’m too stupid to live now.

“We’ve decided I’m squeezing toothpaste and following Ingrid’s lead if shit goes down,” I say up to him, smiling like I’m not an idiot. “Meaning I’m going to hide in the walls or something,” I add to clarify, when he doesn’t make any expression.

He glares at Emit, who is groaning and shaking his head.

“She’s coming,” Vance says like he’s mocking Emit as he takes an easy hop up and balances on the railing like it’s no big feat. “You’re too dramatic, Vance. She’s a Portocale—they have survival training.”

He drops from the railing, as he presumably finishes his mocking, landing with eerie stealth. On impact, he bends perfectly at the knees and immediately springs into an easy, fast-paced walk toward the woods.

“Lock the doors and hide at any sound,” Emit tells me pointedly, like he hasn’t seen what I’m capable of.