I’d been sitting here for the better part of thirty minutes, and the overgrown mutt had yet to sense me and wake up.

Which would be more fun—to wake Nash up with a dagger at his throat, or casually kick him awake?

In the end I decided it was best to go with a classic, so I ghosted over to Nash’s bed and set my hand against the Alpha’s throat, then pressed down hard.

Nash’s eyes snapped open, and he thrashed against my hold, snarling until I set my knee on the man’s sternum.

Werewolves were physically stronger than vampires. But I had Nash pinned to the mattress like a bug, and based on the Alpha’s eyes that were fever-bright with fear, the darkness, the throat grab, and attacking the Alpha in his own home—with wolves standing watch—had scared the hell out of him. And a scared enemy was never a smart enemy.

I smiled.

“Alpha Nash.” I spoke in a lowered tone—one the guard werewolves wouldn’t hear, but still conveyed I wasn’t afraid of Nash or any member of the Flatlands Pack. “Do you know who I am?”

Nash’s eyes bulged, and with my night vision I could see the Alpha’s face was turning a mottled shade of red and purple. The werewolf fought for a breath of air, then wheezed, “Killian Drake.”

“Very good,” I said. “You’ve been a bad dog, Alpha Nash. You’ve made an alliance with a wizard who is attempting to set himself up as the new Adept of House Medeis.”

Nash tried to shake his head, but he couldn’t do much more than rock his head due to the grip I had on his neck. “N-n-no. The W-wizard Council was a c-c-coincidence.”

I felt Nash’s throat contract with the effort it took to talk. “Really? Is that all it was? Then I suppose the legal contract of an alliance you registered with Mason at the Magiford Curia Cloisters was also a coincidence?”

The Alpha’s skin turned ashen, and sweat beaded across his forehead.

I watched him for several long moments. “Because I am generous, I’m going to give you a chance to correct this miscalculation of yours. Dissolve the contract with Mason. Stay far away from House Medeis, and never set your eyes on Hazel. In the future, if I find so much as a tail hair from a member of your Pack around House Medeis, I’ll come back with my Family. And next time you won’t wake up.”

I pushed down hard enough to make Nash gurgle, then eased off the werewolf. I glided back to the open window. “You’ve been warned, Nash.” I slipped out the window, landing on the front porch roof with a thump so soft it didn’t make the seemingly half-deaf watch wolves twitch an ear.

It was easy enough to trace my path across the farmland that surrounded the Pack house and make my way back to the car in the darkness.

The Flatlands Pack was one of the least respected Packs in Illinois due to their lack of strength and discipline—making it child’s play to enter and exit their lands without an invitation.

Regardless, Nash would have become a problem for Hazel. Already her wizard allies had abandoned her. But while I couldn’t involve myself with her fight for her House, I could make sure none of the other races tried to poke a nose into her business.

I reached my car—parked on the shoulder of a country road—and slid in, turning it on.

I glanced at my wrist watch again, and tried to ignore the nagging sensation that tramping out around werewolf land for the sake of a wizard was a sign I was losing some of my famed control.

Hazel Medeis wasn’t part of the Drake Family. I could pretend that if I let her rejoin her family and successfully take back House Medeis it would give me a toehold of power in wizarding society…but I knew it wasn’t political maneuverings that had me away from Drake Hall and invading hostile territory without the knowledge of my own Family.

Nope, it only took a petite wizard who was equal parts saint and sass to accomplish that.

I rubbed my face and growled.

It bothered me that Hazel no longer smelled like a rotting carcass. Rather, the scent of her blood had turned intoxicating overnight, to the point where I couldn’t resist purposely inhaling whenever she got close. I was barely better than one of the mutty-werewolves!

And I couldn’t even answer why. I just knew that when I saw Hazel relentlessly throw herself at the vampire responsible for all the killings and slayings in the vampire community…something in me changed.

Hazel had no loyalty to me—nor any of the vampire Families. But there was a stark beauty in her fierceness when she had fought Solene—because she wasn’t fighting for herself, but for others.

When was the last time I had witnessed something like that?

Although, after Hazel had woken up and I had some time to think about it, it irritated me more and more to think how she had just flung herself into the fight with her at-the-time miniscule powers. The idiot.

I roughly slammed the car’s gear into drive and stomped on the gas, trying to cut off my stupid—and disgustingly soft—thoughts. If I wasn’t careful, I was going to sound like one of the crusty old vampire Elders who went around quoting poetry about the people they’d lost centuries ago.

The only upside in all of this, if there could truly be an upside in this power imbalance, was that she had no idea the power she held over me. She had no idea how much I trusted her. I’d have to do something about it before she—or anyone else—realized the truth.

But for now, I’d protect her where I could—even if that meant calling in favors with the dragon shifters, or visiting werewolves in the early hours of the morning. And I’d do everything I could to train her up to make her lethal—and hopefully better able to survive the fight that loomed in her future.

I didn’t know what I wanted in return. Nothing, maybe?

It would be better if I didn’t get anything in return. It’s not like she’s ‘the one.’

I impatiently shoved the idea of the ridiculous, overly romanticized vampire concept of love out of my mind. I was addled, but not that badly.

Still. If she flung herself in harm’s way again—like she had with Solene—I was going to wring her scrawny neck myself.

Chapter Nine

Hazel

My heart thudded so painfully in my chest it made my throat ache as I walked shoulder to shoulder with Celestina, following behind Killian and Josh.

Night had long ago fallen, and we were walking up a back street that circled behind the stores that lined the block Tutu’s covered. There were only a few street lights here, but it made sense that we’d approach Tutu’s from the back.

In our informational meeting—after Killian had decided what ten vampires would accompany him and me—Killian said the bulk of Tutu’s was underground. So even if we broke in through a back entrance, we’d still have to go down, but at least we’d avoid public notice.

Behind me, Rupert sighed in irritation.

Killian said he chose his team for skill alone, but I suspected he was aware that letting Rupert in on this…challenge, as he had called it, would restore Rupert. At the very least the rest of the Family likely wouldn’t be so cold to him.

Still, I can’t say I was psyched to have the red-haired vampire at my back.

Killian held up his hand to stop us when he reached the back of Tutu’s.

It looked innocuous enough—a little, two-story brick building.

But when I blinked, I could see the magic wards that covered the walls. I couldn’t tell everything they’d set off and do, but I was pretty confident they’d sound an alarm and hit us with some kind of pain spell if we walked through them.

Killian popped open a small mint container and carelessly flung what looked like a mint at the building.

Rather than bounce off the wall, the mint dissolved on contact, and the magic that hummed through the red wards turned a dull gray.

“What was that?” I squawked.

“The wards are down?” Killian asked.

Being the only one capable of sensing magic, I nodded. “Yeah, they’re down. But what was that? It just cut off the wards. They don’t have power!”

“That,” Killian carefully enunciated as he turned toward me. “Was a favor.” He glanced at one of the second-story windows, then barely nodded at Celestina.

Stirring only the tiniest of breezes, Celestina sprang at the window. With her vampire athleticism she easily reached it and pulled herself onto the sill, balancing with ease on the tiny spot.

She blocked the window with her body, so I couldn’t see exactly what she did, but after a few muted metal clicks, she did a one-armed handstand on the windowsill and pried the window open a little, then gripped the window itself and forcibly swung it open.

Hanging from the window as if she didn’t have a care in the world, Celestina gave us a thumbs up before she slipped inside.

Rupert went next, followed by Julianne. I watched them scale the wall with a slight frown.

“Wizard.” Killian offered me his hand.

“No thanks,” I said.

Killian raised an eyebrow. “We’re going through the upstairs window. There is no other route.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “But I don’t need to be carried like a sack of potatoes to get in there.”

I clambered onto the windowsill of the first-floor window and braced my feet on the side of the window before shimmying up.

There are certain positives to being short and slender. It’s pretty hard to keep me out of places because I can fit just about anywhere, and I’m light enough that I can haul myself up. Since Gavino’s been having me lift weights during my training sessions it’s only gotten easier!

I wasn’t as fast as the vampires—who could make it to the second-floor window with a single leap—but I was able to find toeholds in the brick and force my way up the wall. My pants, unfortunately, got stuck on the windowsill when I slithered through, so I had to wiggle my butt to get all the way in, but I hadn’t torn anything, so as far as I was concerned it was a success.

The room was dark—Celestina hadn’t turned on any lights—but I could make out five wooden desks topped with sleek computers.