"I can't," she said again. "I don't know how to translate this." She sounded awfully cheerful for someone being held by thugs employed by her family's archenemy, but we all have different ways of coping.

The calm man swore. "Valerie, trust me. You have no idea how bad it will be for you if you keep resisting."

Certain things-images, phrases, smells-are keyed into your brain the same as nerve endings. Sense a memory, and it can affect you like a blow to the back of the head.

Still, I wasn't sure it was him until I swung around the kitchen door and screamed, "Freeze! Hands behind your head!"

Joshua turned toward me, a pleasant smile on his face. "I was wondering how long it would take you to get out here." He really saw me, and his features sagged in concert with my knees. "G.o.ds. Luna. Is that you?"

Peripherally, I saw that there were at least six other men, all in badly cut suits, loitering in the gallery. Valerie was sitting at a table with a legal pad and pen in her hands and the insouciant Karl gripping her shoulder.

But all I really saw was Joshua. He was older, lines around his eyes and mouth giving him the dignity he'd lacked fifteen years ago. Same burning dark eyes, same thin-lipped cruelty to his expression. His s.h.a.ggy brown-blond hair had grown into a ponytail neatly clipped at the back of his neck with a silver band. He wore Armani instead of biker leathers, but it was him, surely as I was Luna Joanne Wilder.

"Luna!" he exclaimed. "Seven h.e.l.ls, life sure is funny, isn't it?" He took a step toward me and I raised my gun directly between his eyes.

"Don't take another f.u.c.king step." My human brain may have been shocked beyond cognition, but the were knew his smell.

Joshua raised both palms in mock alarm. "Whoa there, girl. Friends. We're not doing anything wrong here."

Rage cut through the shock and the rush of emotions from seeing my de facto pack leader again after years of nightmares and nameless empty places in my heart. The son of a b.i.t.c.h was patronizing me. "Get your hands behind your head," I snapped. "All "All of you!" I added when one of the security men on the leather sofas went for his gun. of you!" I added when one of the security men on the leather sofas went for his gun.

Joshua waved a hand. "Don't worry, boys. She's all bark and no bite." Behind him, the SWAT helicopter came in for a bouncy landing on the O'Hallorans' helipad. About freaking time.

I turned to Valerie. "You okay?"

"I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?" she said, turning her head slowly to give me a puzzled look. Her eyes were glazed and blank, like someone had taken an eraser to her features.

I swung the gun back to Joshua. "What did you do to her?" It had to be another compulsion-Valerie's blank dreamy-eyed stare wasn't induced by anything human.

"Me? Nothing," Joshua said. "And I resent the implication."

I blinked. The Joshua I'd met at a bonfire in San Romita had struggled with anything over two syllables.

"You know, Luna, I never expected to meet you again," he said, walking toward me again. I caught his eyes and stared, marveling at how they burned with a yellow spark even when he was human. "And now that I have, I'm a little disappointed-actually, a lot disappointed. The girl I knew would never join the pigs, much less burst in and wave a gun at her proper mate."

He stopped a few feet from me, never breaking eye contact. My limbs went heavy and I felt as if my own thoughts were being pushed under to accommodate what Joshua wanted me to think. He was disgusted, and that made me terribly upset. I had to fix this, had to show him I was worthy ...

The SWAT team flooded into the room, yelling and wrestling security force thugs to the floor. I barely noticed them, locked as I was in Joshua's eyes.

"There's a good girl," he said, in the same way you'd praise a toy poodle. "Now maybe we can finish what we started oh-so-many years ago." He reached for me, and I caught the edge of the rampant snake tattoo on his right wrist. Like a cord had been snapped, Joshua's will was replaced by the flood of memories of his attack, the chest-crushing feeling of panic and trauma.

He had tried to pull a dominate. On me. me. And seven h.e.l.ls, it had almost worked. I aimed just to the left of Joshua's ear and put a bullet into the pine paneling behind his head. The SWAT team shouted and covered, aiming their weapons at us. The handcuffed goons couldn't do much except glare. And seven h.e.l.ls, it had almost worked. I aimed just to the left of Joshua's ear and put a bullet into the pine paneling behind his head. The SWAT team shouted and covered, aiming their weapons at us. The handcuffed goons couldn't do much except glare.

I met Joshua's eyes again, my fury burning his dominate out of existence. "The next one is a sucking chest wound," I said.

He smiled again, trying to laugh it off, but his jaw twitched with rage. I gestured tiredly to a SWAT officer, suddenly feeling the weight of my vest and gun and my bones. "Get him out of my sight."

"Some things never change," Joshua said as he was handcuffed and hauled away. "Still an uppity little b.i.t.c.h."

I sank onto a leather footstool with the feet of a hoofed dead animal, and put my face in my hands. Joshua. I had hoped for so long he was dead, or in prison, or somewhere somewhere I'd never have to see him again. Well, a hope and a buck-fifty will get you on the Nocturne Transit bus. I'd never have to see him again. Well, a hope and a buck-fifty will get you on the Nocturne Transit bus.

"Detective, we have a problem," said the SWAT captain.

"What is it, Captain ..."

"Fuller, ma'am, and I'm a sergeant."

"Sorry. Sergeant Fuller. What's the problem?"

He pointed at Valerie, who was still sitting primly upright like a Valium-fueled prom queen. "The young lady claims she's not being held against her will."

That got me on my feet. "What? She was kidnapped, for the love of all things Hexed and holy!"

"So you say, Detective," said Fuller with a calm that was utterly maddening. I bet he was a hostage negotiator. "But Miss Blackburn says she wasn't taken against her will, nor was she imprisoned at any time."

The compulsion was still in full force. I looked at Fuller, the room full of SWAT officers, literal and red-blooded and reality-based to a man. Trying to explain daemon magick, witches, weres, and a caster witch-blood witch feud over a carved-up skull was beyond my abilities right then.

"We have to let everyone go," said Fuller. "No crime, no arrests. I'm sorry, ma'am." He gave me an awkward shoulder pat and a sympathetic smile. Probably thought I was cracking up. h.e.l.l, I I thought I was cracking up. thought I was cracking up.

Joshua, released from handcuffs, sauntered over. "Better luck next time, Miss Detective."

"Stay away from me, Joshua," I warned. "I doubt anyone in Nocturne City would blame me for putting a couple of slugs in your smarmy face."

"Except Seamus O'Halloran," he said, still in that infuriating calm tone. "I'm head of security for his holdings."

"Bend over and I'll show you what I think of that," I growled.

"Charming. I'm really starting to wonder what I saw in you. Oh ... I remember-you were easy." He dipped his head in a bow and walked out, gesturing for his squad to follow.

I'd like to say that the comment enraged me and I smashed something or punched him in the nose, but it hurt. It hurt almost as much as seeing Dmitri with Irina, in that part of myself I try to keep hidden from general view. Joshua was under my skin. His blood was my blood, and he had the ability to tear me apart whenever he wanted. The only way to get rid of his influence was to join another pack, or die.

Since neither of those were an option at the moment, I went out to the Fairlane, stripped off my Kevlar, sat in the driver's seat with the windows rolled up and screamed until my throat was raw.

CHAPTER 23.

The sun was setting over Siren Bay when I finally made it back to the city, illuminating the swooping outline of the bridge in black relief. The cottage was that mellow pinkish color it gets at sunset, the denuded climbing roses hiding the peeling paint and missing boards.

I turned off my cell phone and my land line, tossed my gun on the kitchen table, and shed pieces of clothing as I went upstairs, turning the cranky faucet in the old tub hot as far as it would go. I needed Joshua's stink off me.

Thirty minutes later I was clean and smelled of tea tree oil and peach extract, but my thoughts were no less black. I couldn't remember when I'd been this confused, and furious, and tired.

How dare dare Joshua try to use his dominate on me? And how had I fallen for it? I was a proud Insoli. I bowed to no one. Joshua try to use his dominate on me? And how had I fallen for it? I was a proud Insoli. I bowed to no one. Except the man who made you, Except the man who made you, I whispered. I whispered.

I wrapped a towel around my head and another around my torso and kicked the growing pile of laundry around the basket as I went past. Tidiness had been Sunny's reason for living, not mine.

If Joshua could exert his pack influence over me, it was bad all around. I'd lose my status as a free were, my effectiveness as a detective. My entire life was compromised the second I laid eyes on him.

Hex it.

I was about to dig an old bottle of scotch from some forgotten party out of the cabinet under the sink and drink myself into oblivion when I heard voices downstairs and froze. I smelled three distinct bodies, two female and one male, all musky with the odor of were.

Weres. In my house. house. Whoever they were, they were about to be very freaking sorry. Whoever they were, they were about to be very freaking sorry.

I padded down the stairs on light bare feet, balling my fists as I came around the corner into the kitchen. "What in h.e.l.l are you doing coming into my home!"

Irina, Sergei, and Yelena stopped their whispered conversation and favored me with amused glances. I realized I was still wrapped in fluffy bath towels, one white, one pink.

"We have come to visit you," said Irina with a smirk.

I narrowed my eyes and let them flicker to gold. "How did you get in?"

"Door was open," said Sergei brusquely. I hadn't gotten a good look at him in the alley, but in the bright track lighting of my kitchen he was stout and scarred, like a pit fighter or a Russian mafia heavy.

"Irina wishes to speak with you," said Yelena. She was as delicate as Sergei was ungainly, and my bag of Eastern European cliches might have pegged her as an ex-ballet dancer. I saw tattoos on her knuckles and the suggestion of a previous, much harder life in the harsh lines around her mouth. Okay, maybe not a ballet ballet dancer. dancer.

"Ever hear of picking up the Hexed phone?" I asked Irina. She glared at me and slapped one fist against her palm. The effect was a little bit like a lingerie model auditioning for a tough-girl part in a movie.

"The time for polite talk has pa.s.sed," she informed me. I shifted into a combat stance, subtly of course. I may have been wearing a towel, but that didn't mean I had to take her c.r.a.p.

"Do explain."

"You forced Dmitri to phase in part and expose himself to the infection. You have contaminated him further," said Sergei. He took a breath and I thought that was probably the longest phrase he'd spoken in months.

"We made a mistake not dealing with you permanently the first time," said Yelena. "But Dmitri has always been a faithful member of the pack and we granted his request."

"That was a mistake," Irina expounded helpfully.

Belly-dropping fear grabbed me, but I rolled my eyes and acted like they were keeping me from something interesting on television. "So what, it took three of you to deliver the message? Are your ESL skills really that bad?"

Luna, you did it now. Three p.i.s.sed-off pack weres in your kitchen and you without even a thong to defend yourself.

I commanded myself to cut the sarcasm and think of a way out of this problem, but none presented itself. Irina stayed in my face while Sergei and Yelena moved to either side. I've watched enough nature shows to know they were circling, preparing to attack the lone prey.

Have I mentioned I really, really hate being the prey?

"You can't just kill me," I said lamely. "I'm a cop. We have real police in this country."

Yelena barked a laugh. "Do you think the Redbacks are concerned with plain human police in any country, Insoli?"

She had a valid point there. I couldn't fight. I couldn't run. I couldn't even dazzle the Redbacks with my nakedness and go for my gun, lying enticingly in the center of the kitchen table. I'd tangled with Dmitri. I knew how fast and unforgiving his brethren would be.

"Do you have anything to say?" asked Sergei, letting me know with a raised bushy eyebrow that I wasn't really expected to speak, and in fact it would be better if I just shut up and left them to their dismembering.

If there's one thing I have, it's a survival instinct, which I think must be a Serpent Eye thing, because when I can't see a way out I get the craziest ideas, like the one that sprang to mind right then.

"I'll cure him."

Irina stopped her slow pace back and forth and stared at me. "What?"

I swallowed and spoke in my License-and-Registration Voice. "I'll cure Dmitri of the daemon blood. You just have to give me a little time."

Yelena stopped circling, c.o.c.king her head. "Why are you so confident you will do this? We have not been able to. We are his pack. You are just a wolf snarling in the gutter for sc.r.a.ps."

"No offense, lady," I said, not having to fake the steel in my tone. Cracks about being Insoli always make me cranky. "But maybe that's why nothing has worked. You've got your traditions and you can chant and shake sage sticks at him until the cows jump over the moon, but nothing human or were can cure daemon illness."

Sergei regarded me, stroking his chin, and I stared him down, daring him to try something. Not a dominate, just a pure contest of wills between an Insoli and a pack elder. He eventually dropped his gaze and spat on my floor. "Let her try."

Yelena and Irina immediately began whining at him in Ukrainian, but he snarled and they both fell silent.

"Fine." Irina tossed her head in that spoiled-princess way she was so good at. "Try it and fail. I will be amused to watch."

"Hex me, go bite a blood witch," I snapped at her. "Just admit that you lost this time."

"b.i.t.c.h," she muttered, going out and banging the screen door behind her. Yelena followed with a flounce. Cold air curled around my calves and I shivered. Sergei snorted as if he smelled something burning and then held up a finger. "You have until the next full moon."

"Shut the door, and don't let it hit your a.s.s," I responded. He left quietly, footfalls that should have been heavy making no sound.

Yeah, I was gonna have to watch that one. And I had just promised to cure Dmitri of an infection borne from a daemon-were hybrid who was now dead, all in little more than a week.

What the Hex had I gotten myself into now?

Of course, the first thing I did was call Sunny-well, after I had put real clothes on.

"Not that I'm not glad to hear from you," she said. "But you have that tone. You know that tone? The one you only use when something royally terrible has happened?"

"Uh-huh," I said cautiously.

"So what happened, Luna?"

I sighed. "You'd better come over."

She got to the cottage within fifteen minutes, no mean feat from Battery Beach.

"You know speed kills," I greeted her. "That'd be a two-hundred-dollar ticket if some bored patrol officer tagged you."

"Oh whatever," she responded. "Cop's cousin, remember?"

Pleased as I was that I'd corrupted her so thoroughly since her help with the Duncan case, I had more important things on my mind, like my imminent and unpleasant death if I didn't get this Dmitri thing sorted out.