My stomach knew what it wanted without even searching. "Steak and eggs. Rare and over easy. White toast and coffee."

Her pen paused over the pad and her eyebrows rose, making the careful makeup she'd used to cover the crow's feet at the edge of watery green eyes crack just a bit. "Which kind?"

Of coffee? "Um . . . regular? Caffeinated."

She rolled her eyes and tapped the pen on the single-sheet, plastic-coated menu in my hand. Her natural scent of fresh kindergarten paste blended with just the lightest touch of burnt metal from frustration.

"Which kind of steak?"

I finally looked at the menu. It was the first I'd ever seen that gave a variety of steak for the steak and eggs. Wow. None of those wimpy paper-thin slices of breakfast steak here! There was T-bone, sirloin, strip, and even filet to choose from, plus two sizes of each. Ah, cow country . . . best friend to the carnivore, and a town after my heart. The gland in the back of my jaw started secreting enough drool that I had to swallow or risk dripping on the table. "T-bone. Sixteen ounce. And rare."

She nodded. "Got the rare part. How about you?" She pointed the pen tip at Lucas. "Say, you look familiar. You from around here?"

If the question bothered Lucas, he didn't show it. He just smiled. "Nope. I'm from near Denver. We're staying out east of town with my uncle for a few days."

Her shoulders dropped, and she opened her mouth in that universal acknowledgment of surprise. The sour milk scent of disbelief rose into the air, so it wasn't faked. "Well, for heavens sake! I thought I recognized you. You're Dave and Caroline's boy?" She called out to the table of men before Lucas could even reply. "Look here, ya old coots! This is David Sampson's youngest, Josh. He's visiting Ralph. You here for some pheasants? Season starts tomorrow, you know."

Hunting season starts this week? Well, wasn't that just handy knowledge? We could walk around freely with shotguns while two Mafia members were looking for me, and hey . . . accidents do happen. My favorite time of year.

The men all gave a little uncomfortable wave, which we returned, but thankfully they didn't head toward our table. They had moved on from talking about Liz Sutton-Kendall to the price of grain, so we were free to ignore each other. Lucas put his menu on the edge of the table. "I'll have the same as him. But say, hearing them talk about that girl reminded me of something Uncle Ralph said. Wasn't someone named Sutton caught in that tornado last month?"

The waitress, who had a name badge reading Jonyye-which I had no idea how to p.r.o.nounce, raised her brows and put one hand on her ap.r.o.n-clad hip, ready to spill her guts. She had just opened her mouth to reply when a bright ding sounded from behind the counter. "Johnny! Order up!" Okay, good. I knew how to p.r.o.nounce her name now.

She looked at the pad where she'd scribbled our order and raised one finger. "Let me put in your order and take this plate. I'll be right back."

She disappeared and while I would like to talk about all the revelations, I was probably going to have to wait until we were outside. But then a sharp pain formed in my forehead-a red-hot spike that made me wince. What do you think? The words appeared in my mind, almost as though painted across the surface. The voice was Lucas's. I'd forgotten that, as a pack leader, he could communicate mentally like Sue and I do. That would make things easy, if I could stop myself from screaming in pain.

I squeezed my eyes shut and rubbed my forehead to ease the pressure. I knew it'd be better in a minute, since he'd done this to me before. But that didn't remove the knife from my brain right now. I hate it when you do this. Hurts like h.e.l.l, in case you don't remember my mentioning it the last five times. And I think we're going to find out everything we need to know before I've half finished my steak.

I was right.

She didn't return until she had our order and as she set them down, she set herself down, knocking hips with Lucas/Josh repeatedly until he moved over to make room in the booth. I couldn't help but chuckle, despite the glare I got from him and the little stabby pain between my eyes.

I was surprised that Jonyye didn't have a genealogy map tucked in one of her broad pockets. Not that she needed anything in print. She had the entire county's family tree mapped out under her curly mop of bottle-platinum-blond that didn't really cover the gray hairs. It just blended them in a little better. Not only did we hear, in vivid detail, about the night of the tornado, but about the entire Sutton/Kendall family tree. Liz's mother was a Sutton, all right, and the rumor was she came from European money, which is why she insisted the girl have a hyphenated name. I'd figured she was adopted or was a stepkid, but no. She was Kendall's own daughter, just with a different last name. I've heard of that before, but usually the kid winds up with a weird middle name to keep a nearly dead surname alive. Hyphens must be the new thing.

"So she's really lucky to be alive, huh?" I swept up some yolk with my toast and waited for her to reply with another diatribe.

Another broad expression of her slender, muscled arms made Lucas duck his head before taking a bite of seasoned potatoes. The steak I started cutting was perfectly prepared-fork tender and well seasoned-and so far I wasn't having to go through the obstacle course of Jonyye's hands to eat.

Life was good.

"It was amazing! Buried under that rubble all night long, and not a scratch on her! She must have a guardian angel-" She paused and looked sad for a moment. "But of course, she does. Her sweet mother is probably still watching out for her, just like she always did before she pa.s.sed on. Poor Paul really struggled with the three of them before he married his second wife, Tammy. Liz was probably twelve when that happened. Tammy's been a saint, with the kids as wild as they were. All three really took to her, and she's been every bit as good a mom as their real one. She's been a real blessing to Paul, too, since his heart attack."

Ah. That could be useful, a lever to get the girl to do the things that are going to be required of her. None of us really like doing all the stuff the council makes us do to protect the public and keep the secret of the Sazi. But we do them anyway, because people that matter to us could die without them.

After Lucas had finished his last bite of steak, he nodded and dabbed at his mouth with a surprisingly wide paper napkin. "We should stop by and pay our respects if he's not well. Mom would be annoyed if I didn't. I think she went to school with Paul, didn't she?"

Jonyye thought about that for a second but then shrugged, just like she was intended to. "They might have been in the same graduating cla.s.s. Or was that Ralph? I can't remember. But they were definitely in school at the same time. And I'm sure Paul would like that. I don't think he gets too many visitors anymore. Lots of folks stopped by right after he got out of the hospital, but you know how it is. People get busy." She stood up and dusted imaginary crumbs from her ap.r.o.n. "I should get back to work anyway. Paul and Tammy live at the other end of town. You can't miss their place. Just go to Twelfth and turn right. It's the pale pink house. Not my favorite color, but Tammy loves it." She reached out to grab Lucas's shoulder with a smile. He tried to get out of the way, but there wasn't anywhere to go. See, the problem with illusion is it's just that. Lucas was broader across than Josh in real life, so if Jonyye did more than just touch him, what she felt wouldn't match what her eyes told her. It could bother her for days.

Fortunately, she only put a light finger on the sleeve of his shirt. "You tell your mama that Jonyye says hi. She'll remember me. I've been working here my whole life."

She picked up our plates and balanced them in her hands as she walked off. Lucas and I were just starting to rise and scoot out of the booth when he sat down abruptly and motioned for me to do the same with a sharp downward movement of his finger. When he picked up his cup and started to sip while watching the door over the rim, I tried to find a way to see what was behind me while not turning in my seat and looking obvious. The convex mirror on the far wall was the best I could do, even though the images were skewed and distances weren't easy to determine. I could tell from the careful placement of it midwall that it let Jonyye know when someone was coming out of the hallway to the bathrooms. I was betting there'd been more than one collision with her while holding full plates as she came out from behind the counter.

The bell over the door jingled. I wasn't surprised to spot Ricky and Stuart walking into the place, along with a third man whose olive skin said he was from the Middle East. The copper-colored glow around him said he was Sazi. His scent roiled over the room and even those without supernatural noses noticed something odd about the man. They just didn't know what was wrong. He smelled enough like Ahmad, except weaker, that I was betting he was a cobra. Now, what in the world were two Jersey guys doing with a Sazi snake? I glanced up and Lucas's eyes were asking the same question. But the only way we were going to find out the answer was to stay and listen in.

I held up my cup and caught Jonyye's eye. She nodded and headed our way with a half-full pot. She noticed the new arrivals just as she reached our table. Her sudden frown and the sharp sour scent said she'd encountered them before. "Oh, them." She lowered her voice and bent forward as though sweeping up crumbs from the back of the table, then whispered words, her mouth barely moving. "You boys stay away from those men. They're bad news. The sheriff has been watching them since they rolled into town two days ago. Don't know what they're up to, but it isn't good. You mark my words."

Lucas/Josh gave the only appropriate reply. "Yes, ma'am." I nodded in agreement. I couldn't think of anything I'd like more than staying away from those men. The trick was, that wasn't going to be so easy. Having a snake with them meant that illusion wasn't going to help much. He'd taste us coming.

The scent of cherries makes Mustaf quite ill. I blinked. Now where did that thought come from? I glanced at Lucas, but he was busy watching the men over Jonyye's shoulder. He didn't give me any sort of look that said it had been him talking, and it hadn't been his voice I'd heard. It was my own voice- well, as much as you have a voice in your own mind. It was weird, but most of my life is pretty weird right now. If I was going to be living in an X-Files world, I might as well run with it.

"You got any cherry pie, Jonyye?" She turned her head and looked at me with an odd expression, so I shrugged. "Got a sudden craving. You know how it is." And apparently she did, because she smiled.

"Best in the county. Make it myself. You wait right here."

I raised my hand and gave her a pair of fingers. "Bring two. I know Josh. He won't say no."

Lucas waited until she was back behind the front counter, taking a tall gla.s.s dome off a plate of pastries before he spoke under his breath. "Actually, I will say no. I don't like cherry pie. In fact, I hate it. And we just ate enough for four people. What's up?"

I repeated the words that had appeared in my brain. "The scent of cherries makes Mustaf quite ill." That caused a raised brow. "Hey, don't know where the thought came from, but I'm game."

My hands clenched suddenly from the sharp pain as he drove his thoughts into my skull. You know the snake?

It's tough to have a conversation without appearing to, so I spent some time dusting nonexistent crumbs from the picnic tablepatterned red-and-white cloth. Never seen him before. But maybe I'm still picking up from Ahmad. He probably has a dossier on every snake in the world. Either way, it's worth a try. He hasn't spotted us yet as far as I can tell, but look how fast his tongue is licking his lips. It won't be long before he zeroes in on us. We'll find out soon enough if there's anything to it.

Jonyye appeared just then with two plates that had light steam rising from them. The scent of sugared warm cherries filled the air and suddenly I really was hungry again. She set down the plates and forks with a look of pride. "Warmed it up for you. Pie's no good when it's cold. Just tell me if that isn't the best pie you've ever had in your life."

Lucas managed to fight down his revulsion at the scent pretty well, considering. He smiled, but it was shaky. "Afraid I'll have to make some room if I'm going to have that. It sure looks good, but mine needs to cool a little anyway." It did look hotter, nearly bubbling, so when he scooted out of his seat, Jonyye didn't stop him. "Excuse me. I'll be right back." In my mind he continued. I'll be listening in from the restroom. We can't just sit and make no noise without being noticed. Now you can just sit and n.o.body will expect you to talk. Feel free to steal my pie. I promise I won't mind.

He looked at the pie again as he turned and shuddered a little as I cut my first forkful and stuffed it in my mouth with actual enthusiasm. One bite was enough not to have to fake it to say, "Suit yourself. But don't be surprised if yours is gone by the time you get back. Jonyye makes a mean pie."

She beamed and I was suddenly her golden boy. Never a bad thing for future needs. I made a very deliberate point of holding up my fork and blowing on the next bite. I angled my mouth so it pushed the scent of hot cherries right into the faces of the three men sitting at the table nearby. The snake's tongue went from thoughtfully licking to that same expression a kid makes when they take a spoonful of cough syrup.

Pleased to meet you, Mustaf.

Another slow, deliberate breath followed by a burst of air toward them and it was all she wrote. Quite ill was a bit of an understatement, because Mustaf the snake suddenly held a hand to his mouth. His cheeks puffed out and he clawed his way out of the booth, looked around frantically, and then raced out the door. More than one of Earl's crew got a delighted expression and raced to the window to watch the foreigner heaving his guts out next to the Shasta daisies. Mike elbowed Earl's son in the ribs.

"Heck, and he hasn't even eaten the food yet. Some sort of record for ptomaine. The rest of us won't get it for an hour or so."

The old codger with the missing teeth let out a whoop of laughter. "Told you that coffeepot ought to be cleaned out at least once a year, Jonyye."

"Oh, stop." She was smiling when she said it. "You shouldn't make fun of a man in distress. I'll see if I've got some Kao in the back for him." But I noticed she didn't move very fast.

I stayed right in my seat because although I'd love to watch him heaving, I found it interesting that Ricky and Stuart didn't find it interesting. They didn't seem to mind at all that he was gone. Sort of relieved, in fact. I kept casually cutting off tiny bits of the pie, savoring each bite as Lucas shuddered in my head.

"Wonder what set him off," Stuart finally whispered after a couple of sips of coffee, while the other men continued to hoot and holler. "Tastes fine to me."

Ricky waved it off and muttered. "Fugettabout.i.t. Who knows? Who cares? The guy drives me nuts anyway. What I wanna know is how long we're gonna be stuck in this b.u.mf.u.c.k town? It's been two days, and nuttin. I think someone's yanking the Don's chain. Giodone's dead. Otherwise, he would have showed up at the hospital by now or at least sent word. But not even flowers. We're chasin' air here."

Hospital? You know anything about someone in a hospital? I was asking Lucas, and he knew it. The little stabby pain made me wince as I bit down. The men at the table noticed me wince so I fished around in my mouth like I'd found a pit in my cherries, then peered at my fingers and wiped them on the plate. It was enough to make them ignore me again.

Just the clinic. We don't have any agents or pack members in any hospital these guys would have access to.

Stuart shrugged. "Maybe. But Pop says stay here until the weekend, so we stay until the weekend. There was still that plane that landed at the farm this morning, and I still say that farmer was lying about someone flying in."

Ricky raised his hand, trying to attract Jonyye's attention to order. But she seemed to be really, really busy right then and didn't acknowledge the wave. "I just don't see any reason why they'd protect a guy like Giodone, and if roughing up his kid didn't make him talk, nothing will."

Lucas reacted violently and I could hear a low growl come out from the hallway across the room. I agreed. That just put these guys on my s.h.i.t list. You don't get to hit kids. It was a hard and fast rule of Carmine's and one I always enforced . . . permanently.

Stuart slapped his hand out sideways and thumped Ricky's bicep. "Keep your voice down, stupid!" he hissed. "We're not on home turf here. That dumba.s.s sheriff is already too d.a.m.n nosy without giving him ideas of where to go look."

My ears were really sensitive today or I wouldn't have even noticed that Lucas had pulled out his cell phone in the bathroom. No doubt he was calling the Sampsons to check up on them.

"Think we ought to call our snitch again to find out when they're leaving? I'd rather spend the weekend at the beach than in this heat."

I'd very much like to listen in on that call to find out who this "snitch" was. I was just starting to think about how to track their car when Lucas came out from the bathroom hallway fast and hard, barely missing Jonyye carrying a tray of food for the family near the door. He didn't even apologize, which wasn't like him. As he reached the table, he pulled out his wallet and threw a pair of fifties on the table, which was waaay more than the bill would be, even with the pie. "C'mon, Joe. We have places to be. Right now."

I wasn't quite done with my pie, but I don't argue when he uses that tone. He's a lot more like Carmine than he'd like to think. I wouldn't put it past him to just pull out a piece and start firing at anything that stepped in his way when he's on a mission . . . including me.

Jonyye didn't even have time to acknowledge our leaving before I was up and following him out the door.

Mustaf was still on the ground, coughing and trying to catch his breath. We were halfway to the truck when Lucas changed his mind about leaving and made a U-turn toward the snake. A golden light, tinged with blue, shot out from the aura surrounding him and caught the Sazi snake in a vise. I'd seen him do this before, but it's always entertaining to watch . . . from the outside. Mustaf fell to his side as though paralyzed. Which he was. Then the magic tightened around him until he was curled into a fetal position with only his head free to move. Lucas, in his Josh persona, moved toward him quickly. His face wore a concerned expression that would convince everyone still staring out the window of the restaurant. But most of the diners had returned to their meals, so there wouldn't be many people to witness whatever he was about to do to the shape-shifter. I stayed out of it. It wouldn't look right for both of us to race over. Still, I stayed nearby in case he needed help.

Right.

Fortunately, my ears were still in overkill mode, so I would hear every word like it was being screamed next to my ear. Of course, the trouble with that is that ears aren't terribly selective when it comes to loud noise. It's like those "personal amplifiers" you see on television that claim you can eavesdrop on conversations a block away. Sure you can . . . right up until the moment the neighbor kid's car with the bad m.u.f.fler, or the high-end speakers, drives by. Then you won't be hearing anything at all for a day or so.

But Lucas's whispered conversation? No problem at all.

"Were you with the men who harmed the child on the farm, Mustaf? If you were, it's a death sentence offense."

The man's facial features stilled and instead of trying to fight against Lucas's power-always a futile effort, he froze. "You know my name. n.o.body in this country knows my true name."

Josh had one of those smiles that was filled with even white teeth that spoke of years of expensive orthodontic treatments. But Lucas's eyes didn't match the smile. The eyes were filled with anger and deadly intent. He crouched down next to the snake and let his eyes glow bright. "Wolven knows everything, and we're everywhere. Remember that. The men you're with are wanted by the human authorities. If you stay with them, and are put behind bars for crimes they committed, I don't believe Ahmad will see fit to send a lawyer. He will visit you himself and you will never see a fair trial. Now, I will ask again. Were you with them?"

Mustaf let out a slow breath and then shook his head once, firmly. "No. They went to the house alone." I believed him, because there was no scent of black peppers, which I've learned means a person is lying.

"I remained behind to watch for the three-day wolf they said was to come. That's my only purpose here. I was paid to help find the man they seek to bring him back for crimes he committed. They don't even know how I find other Sazi. I have broken no council laws to become a bounty hunter. But if I cannot get the taste of that wretched fruit from my tongue, I will do no good for them, so I might as well leave."

Lucas released his magical hold on Mustaf and once he'd relaxed onto the dirt, got out of his crouch and offered him a hand to his feet. His words were firm, even though the smile was still on his face. "Wolven is not so depleted that we require vigilante a.s.sistance. Tell those you work with, and for, that to capture another Sazi for delivery to anyone other than the council will have punishment meted. The Sazi these men seek is a Wolven agent now. Any crimes have been commuted by the chief justice. We will allow him to defend himself as any other Wolven agent can. Is that understood?"

The ultimatum didn't go over well. He let out a low hiss and his fists clenched. "You have no right to make this rule, Wolven! I do no harm. I do not plan injuries to others. I do not kill or partic.i.p.ate in torture or risk creating a new snake. I merely point out criminals others seek. This is my livelihood, to feed my many children. Only the council can make such a law, and they must be aware that it will injure myself and others. I demand to have my say before them, to defend my business."

It was pretty obvious Lucas didn't like it from the low growl he let out and the scent of burning coffee that filled the parking lot. But he dipped his head once. "You will have your say at the next council meeting, two months hence. Ahmad will notify you of the location. But until then, my word is law. The charter of Wolven, enacted by the council, gives me that right. You will leave this place, and turn away any jobs until then. Am I understood?"

Mustaf leaned back his shoulders fluidly until there was a definite bowing of his spine. I've learned the snake-shifters do that when they're about to strike. I stepped forward carefully and started to plan how to reach the derringer in the holster at my ankle in case I needed to dive for cover and shoot. Since he was a cobra, he might only spit. But even that's deadly. Lucas didn't budge. He stared him down, not even bothering to freeze him with magic, until the snake's shoulders relaxed, fraction by fraction. But the cobra's words were still poisoned darts and I'd bet if he could have found a way to make them cut flesh, he would have. "You . . . are . . . understood."

Lucas turned and walked away, not even bothering to come my way, or look back at the p.i.s.sed-off snake. All I could do was shake my head as I got in the truck, which was already running by the time I got there. "Gee. That went well." I tried to keep the sarcasm out of my voice, because actually it did sort of go well.

"The problem is that he's right. Wolven is depleted to the point where we need extra help. But we can't let the average Sazi know that, because they'll take advantage. All I can do is puff up my chest and pretend at this point and hope the council is going to agree with my position."

The way he was gripping the steering wheel as he backed out made me wonder whether he was going to snap it in two by the time the ride was over.

"Need me to take over driving? You seem a little . . . stressed. I'd like to make it wherever we're going in one piece."

His own growl, low pitched and vicious, caught him unaware and he had to slam his mouth shut and blink a couple of times. I fingered the door latch in case I needed to dive out. No way was I a match for him if he was p.i.s.sed and we both knew it.

He sighed and tried to get his emotions under control. I only knew that because there was so much scent overload in the car that I started a sneezing fit. And there wasn't a single tissue in the truck. "Lots of things going on right now. I'm overextended and it's starting to show. Wolven's a mess, Boulder's a mess, the new turn is about to leave town with an unwitting human right at the full moon, and we have a councilwoman down from unknown causes. There's still something big happening out there and the harder I try to figure it out, the faster it slips through my fingers."

There wasn't a thing I could do about any of it, other than the matter at hand, so I focused on that. "I presume it's the new turn about to leave town that's our crisis of the moment? Or are we heading to the Sanderson farm to check out whether there are going to be any new snakes in the region?"

He shook his head. "No, I believe Mustaf. Good job on outing him, by the way. I've actually heard of him, but had never seen him before. Wherever you got the information is fine with me. But if you're connecting to Ahmad's head without him knowing, we're going to have to find some way to stop it. He's privy to secrets that you don't get to have access to."

I couldn't help a small smile. "Afraid I'll sell you out?"

Lucas kept a straight face, and I was pretty sure he wasn't kidding. "It's not beneath you. I don't have any illusions about you, Tony. I'd love to think I could trust you, but there's a divide between our worlds that I doubt if you'll ever cross." I was pretty sure I knew what he was talking about, but I let him continue anyway. "You have morals, of a sort, which is why I'm giving you a chance with Wolven. But your morals are your own, which is pretty typical of a sociopath. Sometimes they coincide with what the rest of society considers normal, sometimes they're even stricter. But more often they're looser, and that's where we have a problem."

"And it's why you keep partnering me with agents stronger than me, magically." The huff of air I let out wasn't really humor. Just irony. I looked out the window at the neat houses with green lawns. I'd had a nice house with a lawn once, on a quiet cul-de-sac where I had friends and people who respected me. But then came the Sazi and everything changed. Now I was in a dumpy apartment in a strange town where I was part of a pack I didn't really belong to. I was the lowest of the low of my kind, living with a woman that I was married to on paper, but had never actually agreed to share my life with before a man of the cloth. And I might lose her any day and could lose my life on any given a.s.signment at the whim of my partner. I spent each day trying not to think about a whole bunch of things that it was best not to dwell on. "No doubt with orders of shoot to kill if I become too much of a pain." I raised my brows as he glanced at me without responding. "It's not like I hadn't already figured it out."

"I don't doubt it, but it's not like it was a secret. You have plenty of detractors among Wolven and the council, and only a few supporters. That you're still alive says your benefits outweigh your . . . issues. I keep hoping that'll continue."

"Hope springs eternal." This time I did smile and he couldn't help but let out a chuckle.

Chapter Six.

"YOU WERE RIGHT to call us in, Paul." Lucas and I were sitting on a comfortable couch across from a man who shouldn't be out of bed. He was pale, gaunt, and it was obvious moving was a ch.o.r.e. "She's one of us, all right."

Liz Sutton-Kendall had just left the room to check up on her guest, who was missing in action in the bathroom. We hadn't really talked to her about the Sazi yet, but we would. The size of the pearlescent pink aura around the pet.i.te brunette told me she would probably wind up an alpha, and she smelled distinctly of warm fur, rich soil, and something sweet and candy-like that I couldn't completely place.

"She's not going to be able to travel by the end of the day. Tonight's the first night of the moon. Anything could happen and from what Lucas has said, her kind isn't to be taken lightly."

Kendall sighed, and I would have thought it was from sorrow, but there was also the lighter fragrance of relief that drifted my way on the cool air from floor vents. The small smile that eased his face took a few years, or a few levels of pain, away from him. "She's always been different . . . like her mother, and it's sort of nice there's a reason. I used to worry about her, getting in fights with the neighbor kids over nothing, spending all her time alone, digging holes in the yard. Why, the girl didn't own an outfit that wasn't caked with ground-in mud and red clay." Now he chuckled and his scent filled with the warm cookie overtones of parental love. "She was my fishing buddy until she got too grown-up. I'd send her out to find worms for me. She always knew where they were. That's something Margaret talked about having too-how she could find bugs and worms. She could hear them moving underground. It got worse on the moon and she used to have to put on headphones and listen to music to stop hearing them b.u.mping around under the house. But she never did turn."

Lucas nodded and leaned forward until his elbows were on his knees. "That happens sometimes with family members. They get some of the symptoms, but never turn. It used to be that people like them got locked up in asylums. Now we watch the hospitals for near-turns, help them cope. Sometimes we can even heal the damage to their systems so they can live normal lives."

Paul tapped his fingers on the arm of the chair and it was like watching bones wiggle in a Halloween display. "I'm concerned about sending her to her grandpa for training, though. Margaret made it really clear that he wouldn't welcome anyone from this branch of the family. Isn't there anyone else who can teach Elizabeth the ways . . . any other option except to send her away?"

"Send me away where? What are you guys talking about out here so seriously? You heard me turn down the job with these guys, Dad. I'm going to accept the one back East I was offered last week. Heather and I are leaving tomorrow morning, just like we planned."

It seemed a quick and easy way to get the girl to come with us-offer a job to a fresh college grad. We'd hoped that by offering more money than her other offer, she'd leap on it. No such luck. Lucas shook his head. "I'm afraid we can't let you do that."

I finally got a look at Elizabeth's friend Heather, who was now hovering in the doorway trying to stay as far out of the room as possible. She was taller and thinner than the Kendall girl, and while she didn't have an aura, there was a way she held her body-very catlike and ready to spring away, that made me wonder. I twitched a finger until she came fully into the room. "You're a family member, aren't you, Heather? What species? Cougar? Jaguar? You're too tall and lithe for a bobcat."