His voice sharpened. "What do you know?"

"Nothing. Not a damn thing, including where Adam and your son are right now. Just when are you considering bringing the werewolves out in public?"

"Samuel's missing?"

"I wouldn't go that far. The whole pack is with them-they just haven't bothered to check in with me."

"Good," he said, obviously not surprised that they hadn't seen fit to keep me updated. "In answer to your previous question-I believe it is something that must be done soon. Not this week nor next, but not a year from now either. My contacts in the FBI laboratories tell me that our existence is an all-but-open secret right now. Like the Gray Lords, I've come to the conclusion that since coming out is inevitable-it is imperative to control how it is done."

See? Werewolves are control freaks.

"How many people... how many wolves know about this?" I asked.

There was a pause. "This is pertinent to the attack on Adam?"

"I believe so, yes."

"Most of the wolves here would know," he said. "I haven't been keeping it a secret. Next month at the Conclave I am going to make a general announcement."

He didn't say anything more, just waited for me to tell him what I'd been thinking. It was pure speculation, and I was opening myself up to ridicule by saying anything at all. I sat on that stool and realized that I had my loyalties, too. I was not a werewolf, but Bran was still my Marrok. I had to warn him.

"I have no proof," I told him. "Just a theory." And I told him what I thought had happened and why.

"I don't have any idea who it is," I told the silence at the other end of the line. "Or if I'm right."

"If it is a werewolf who is unhappy about revealing himself to humans, it seems odd that there would be humans working with him," Bran said, but he didn't say it like he thought my theory was stupid.

I'd almost forgotten about the humans. "Right. And I don't have much of an explanation about the drug tests that Mac told us about either-other than maybe they were worried about dosage or side effects. Paying for new-made werewolves seems like a lot of risk with very little benefit."

"When two wolves are fighting, having one of them drugged could greatly influence the outcome," said Bran. "I like your theory, Mercedes. It isn't perfect, but it feels like you're on the right trail."

"He wouldn't have to worry about the loyalties of humans," I said, thinking out loud.

"Who?"

"Adam says that one of the wolves who attacked his house was someone he knew, a wolf who shared his rebirth."

"David Christiansen."

"Yes." It didn't surprise me that the Marrok would know who I was talking about. Bran managed to give the impression that he knew every werewolf anywhere personally. Maybe he did.

"David works with humans," Bran said slowly. "But not with other werewolves. I wouldn't have thought he would ever be a part of a plot that included rape-Changes like that experienced by your Alan MacKenzie Frazier. Still it is something to consider. I'll call Charles and see what he makes of it."

"He's still in Chicago?"

"Yes. You were right; it was Leo. Apparently his salary wasn't enough to support the kind of living he wanted to enjoy." Bran's voice sounded neutral. "He didn't know the wolf he sold the young victims like your Alan MacKenzie Frazier to-there were six of them altogether. He didn't know what they wanted the young ones for, either. Stupid of him. The Alpha's second is the one who set up the deal, but Charles is having difficulty getting any more information out of the second because he has left town. It may take us a while to find him. The rest of the pack seems to have been unaware of what was going on, but we are breaking them up anyway."

"Bran? If you hear from Samuel or Adam, will you tell them to call me?"

"I'll do that," he said gently and hung up.

Chapter 13

I was in no mood for working on the Beetle after talking to Bran, so I closed up shop and went home. Bran had thought my ideas had merit, which was all well and good, except it did not answer the tightness in my belly that told me I should have gotten a call by now. My nose had told me that Adam hadn't found Jesse at the empty house in West Richland, but it didn't tell me where they'd gone afterward.

I paused again on my porch at the smell of death that still lingered there. I decided Elizaveta Arkadyevna was punishing me for not telling her what was going on. I'd have to clean the porch myself or be reminded of Mac's death every time I walked in my house for the next few months.

I opened the door, still thinking of Mac, and realized what else my senses had been trying to tell me a moment too late. All I had time to do was drop my chin so that the man who'd been standing behind the door didn't get the chokehold he'd gone after, but his arm was still tight around my head and neck.

I twisted around sharply in his grip until I faced him, then threw everything I had into a short, sharp punch into the nerve center on the outside of the big muscle of his thigh. He swore, his grip loosened, and I pulled free and started fighting in earnest.

My style of karate, Shi Sei Kai Kan, was designed for soldiers who would be encountering multiple opponents-which was good because there were three men in my living room. One of them was a werewolf-in human form. I didn't have time to think, only react. I got in some good hits, but it rapidly became apparent that these men had studied violence a lot longer than I.

About the time I realized the only reason I was still up and fighting was because they were being very careful not to hurt me, the werewolf hit me once, hard, square in my diaphragm, then, while I was gasping for air, tossed me on the floor and pinned me there.