Ascanio sighed and waved his hand. The female bouda on his left started toward Namtur.

Namtur smiled. There was no warmth in it.

“No killing!” I called out. “No—”

Namtur bent his right leg and raised it up, resting his ankle on his left leg, toes flexed out. His left arm came up to his chest, bent at the elbow. His right elbow rested on his left wrist, the forearm pointing straight up, his palm parallel to the ground, fingers pointing at the female bouda. Python’s coil.

Well, it could’ve been worse.

The female bouda covered the last six feet and reached for him.

Magic struck out of Namtur in a purple cloud filled with the coils of a phantom serpent. It splayed through the street, like a blast wave, and vanished. Translucent purple chains gripped every shapeshifter, locking them in place. The top ring of the chain clamped their mouths, gagging them.

The shapeshifters strained. Muscles bulged. Faces turned red. Nobody moved. Ascanio’s eyes burned with murderous fire. If looks could kill, Namtur would have two smoking holes in his head.

“Ooh,” Marten said. “You could steal all their things.”

Namtur smiled at the child. “I told you, there is no thief in this world equal to me.”

My life was a circus. A circus full of thieves, and stupid shapeshifters, and small children executing evasive maneuvers.

“How long will it last?” Marten asked.

Namtur shrugged. “In my day, the People of the Fur were valiant and mighty. Great men and terrible beasts, a wonder to behold and a challenge to fight.” He waved his hand. “These… Meh.”

Derek flexed his shoulders. The chains shattered and melted into thin air.

Wow. He hadn’t even strained.

Namtur’s eyes narrowed. “Except that one. Go inside, child.” He pulled a long, curved knife out of his robes.

Okay, that was enough. The words of the old language came naturally, as if I was born to it. “Release them and take the child inside. Please.”

“You will be safe?”

“I’ll call for your aid if I need it.”

Ascanio snapped his chains with a guttural snarl. Namtur rolled his eyes, ran up to the porch, swept Marten into his arms, and disappeared into the house. The door clanged shut.

The chains vanished. Shapeshifters stumbled and a couple fell, suddenly free.

Ascanio’s face was pure rage. Things just weren’t going his way. He started forward. I moved between him and Derek.

“No.”

“Step aside.” The menace in his voice shot alarms through me.

“Or what?”

“Or I’ll move you.” Ascanio looked at Derek over my shoulder. “Hiding behind a human?”

Derek smiled. “Idiot.”

A shiver dashed through Ascanio. He was a hair from shifting.

“Well, that was very informative,” a familiar voice said. “But playtime is over.”

I turned my head. Robert Lonesco crouched on top of the debris pile blocking the side street. Lean, dark-haired, with eyes like chocolate and bronze skin, Robert looked almost pretty. Until he switched to his warrior form, and then he looked like your worst nightmare.

Zahar gaped at him. Apparently, like everyone else, he hadn’t heard or smelled Robert, and having him materialize twenty feet away was probably extremely upsetting. That’s why Robert was the alpha of the Rats and the Pack’s Chief of Security.

Marten and Namtur popped their heads out the door.

Ascanio kept walking toward us. Behind him the boudas started forward.

Robert shook his head.

Three dozen shapeshifters rose from nearby roofs.

“When I said the party was over, kids, I meant it.”

Ascanio halted. His people stopped too. The wolves moved closer to Derek.

“We had an understanding,” Ascanio said to Robert.

“Our understanding hinged on you being discreet.” Robert waved his hand to indicate the scene. “This is not discreet. The venerable gentleman was correct. This is unseemly.”

“I’m handling this. My people will clean it up,” Ascanio said.

“No need. This is done.”

“No.”

“Beta Ferara.” Robert’s voice turned ice-cold. “Do you know where Abigail Lewis is?”

Ascanio glanced at me, as if looking for someone. “No. Not at the moment.”

“I do. She’s being transported to the Keep from the safehouse on Durham Street. She inhaled a pound of silver dust. She should be dead.”

Ascanio’s face blanched.

“Instead, she is in stable condition. They were able to wake her up with an adrenaline shot and she stayed conscious long enough to tell everyone in the safehouse that a pretty human knight and a magic werewolf with scars on his face saved her life. The man who dropped her off told them that Derek Gaunt said ‘hi.’ Doolittle is standing by in the Keep’s clinic. He says it’s a miracle and can’t wait to examine her.”

All the fight went out of Ascanio. They called it into the Keep. The cat was out of the bag, and now Robert would do things by the book.

Robert looked at Derek. “You have some choices to make. Are you here as Gaunt or are you here as Argent? Think carefully before you answer.”

A brilliant move. Robert had just solved the dilemma of Derek’s identity by pushing the burden onto Derek’s shoulders. Most of Derek’s people were right here with him. If he said he was Gaunt, Robert would let him walk away. If he said he was Argent, he would be given an invitation to the Keep he couldn’t refuse. His people would go to the Keep regardless. He had the immunity that belonging to Curran provided. They did not. He wouldn’t abandon them.

Derek opened his mouth. “Greetings to the alpha of Clan Rat. Thank you for your hospitality.”

“Greetings to the beta of Ice Fury,” Robert replied.

Ascanio looked like somebody had slapped him with a fish.

“The Beast Lord is eager to meet with you,” Robert said.

“Why make him wait any longer?” Derek said.

Robert smiled. “Excellent answer. You were always good at thinking on your feet.” He looked to Ascanio. “The Beast Lord will see you as well. When the call came into the Keep, the Beast Lord was in a meeting with your alpha and the alpha of Clan Wolf.”

Oh no. Nick told Desandra. The two of them knew about Ascanio and Derek’s incident, realized that a confrontation was inevitable, and so Desandra must’ve positioned herself in the Keep waiting for Ascanio to fuck up.