Nick leaned to the side, pulled a piece of paper out of something I couldn’t see, and held it out to Desandra. “Smell this.”

She grinned. “Oh baby, such inventive come-ons you have.”

Nick rolled his eyes.

Desandra plucked the paper from his fingers and sniffed it. “Why am I smelling this?”

“A woman showed up at my office. This is a form she filled out. She has a badge that dictates that I assist her in every way possible.”

“Mmmm, kinky. How do I get one of those?”

“You have to render a great service to the Order.”

Desandra grinned and smelled the paper again. “Oh, I’ve done that. Many, many times.”

Nick smiled. Oh my gods.

“Have you smelled this scent before?”

Desandra shook her head. “No. I would remember. Why?”

Nick frowned. “There’s something familiar about her. I can’t put my finger on it but…”

“Keep your finger and everything else away from her.” Desandra’s eyes flashed again. She toyed with the paper. “Is she pretty?”

“Pretty is the wrong word.”

Desandra’s voice dropped into dangerous territory. “What is the right word?”

“Regal.” Nick grimaced and held out his hand. “I need the paper back.”

“No.” Desandra held the paper out of his reach and sniffed it again. “I like smelling it.”

My magic gave me an affinity to horses, birds of prey, and wolves. They liked my scent.

“Seriously.” Nick reached for the paper.

“You can’t have it. Mine.” Desandra waved the paper and stopped abruptly, her eyes looking straight at me like two shiny moons. “Honey, where is your crossbow?”

“By the bed. Why?”

“There is an eagle in your tree.”

“So?”

“I grew up in the Carpathian Mountains. We had many eagles. They sleep at night.”

Busted. I sent a mental push to Turgan. Go!

The eagle took off. I tossed a handful of wolfsbane into the air, spun Tulip around, and urged her into a canter. She flew through the night-soaked streets like a ghost. Wind tugged at my hair. Even if Desandra chased me, she’d have a hard time catching up, and the wolfsbane would leave her nose-blind for a couple of hours.

Ahead, Lucile Avenue dead-ended into Abernathy Boulevard. We made a right and headed northwest.

An eerie howl floated on the night wind. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end, an instinctual reaction coded in my genes from when humans were food and feared being eaten.

It had come from the left. If Desandra had chased me and howled, it would’ve come from the right or behind us. Were there wolves guarding her? She could’ve brought a team with her. Had I blundered into a trap?

I sent my magic out in a pulse. It splayed out, searching, collided with bodies, and I felt wolves, running fast through the wrecked houses on my right. One, two…

A second group, on the left, gliding through the overgrown wood that used to be Westview Cemetery. Three more, all larger than a wild wolf had a right to be.

Shit.

Another howl rose, a vicious song of hunt, a promise of sharp fangs and a swift death. A second howl answered. The pack was closing in.

Tulip neighed, more outrage than fear, and broke into a gallop. We thundered up the deserted street past the husks of abandoned homes. The wolves sang again. Ice rolled down my spine. This wasn’t a pretend chase. I was being hunted.

A new presence came in from the right, moving fast on the edge of my magic. It lashed my senses like a knife, emanating power. Not Desandra. Something else. Something savage, something more… Moving way too fast.

Tulip screamed in alarm.

We rounded the curve. Ahead, something blocked the road. The moon peeked through the clouds. An overturned semi, flanked by a bunch of smashed cars.

Wolves burst from the woods behind me.

Forest on the left, semi in front. Turning right, toward East I-20, was my only option. I swung Tulip onto MLK Drive.

The overpass in front of me had crumbled. A hill of debris blocked the road.

A dead end. They’d ran me to ground.

I let the reins go slack, so Tulip could stop on her own. She made a wide arc by the rubble, slowing, and I turned her toward the road and the cemetery on the other side, our backs to the overpass. I was done running.

No more howling. It was quiet now. The only sound was Tulip breathing hard.

Shadows congealed from the gloom between the trees on the other side. Slowly, paw over paw, the wolves padded out into the open. Three from the woods, two from the right, coming from Abernathy. Two grey Eurasians, one white Arctic, and the other two grey sprinkled with cinnamon—Timbers. Every single one was over two hundred pounds. Five pairs of glowing eyes stared at me.

Tulip bared her teeth.

The odds weren’t in my favor. With the magic up, I could take them, but then the Pack would come after me in force.

A huge shape leaped from the roof of a brick building on the left and landed in front of the pack. Magic screamed a warning in my head.

The grey monster, bigger than any lupine shapeshifter I had ever seen, raised his head. He was almost as big as Curran and Curran was a fucking prehistoric lion.

Two golden eyes focused on me, their gaze pinning me in place. Suddenly it was hard to breathe. My body locked up, convinced that I was prey. The alpha stare.

He dared.

I stared right back. Holding his gaze was like trying to lift a car.

The moon tore through the clouds, spilling pale light onto the intersection. It slid over the giant wolf’s fur, setting it aglow. He wasn’t grey. He was silver. Unnaturally silver.

I blinked, bringing my magic vision up. A faint mint green rippled over his coat. Fuck.

The wolf took a step forward, bathed in moonlight.

My hands went cold. A bitter metallic taste coated my tongue. I blinked the magic colors away and reached for my bow, attached to Tulip’s saddle.

Step.

Another.

I raised my bow. Everything came into crystal-clear focus. My breathing was deep and even. The world shrank down to three things: the wolf, my bow, and the distance between us.

A third step.

I plucked an arrow from the quiver.

His black lips stretched, showing me a forest of fangs.

Keep smiling. You’ll look really funny with an arrow sticking out of your mouth.

His silver fur tore. In an instant, bone melted like wax, reshaping itself, muscles stretched, snapping over the new frame, and human skin sheathed the new form. A man with golden eyes stared at me, tall, broad-shouldered, corded with muscle. The moonlight played over his face, highlighting the network of thin scars.