sta

slipped out of the main house. I was dressed in black jeans, a fitted turtleneck, an

industrial district on the outskirts of town. I parked in a grimy al

s was their spot. Every Wedn

pt grey sedan pulled up to the back entrance of the cafe. A man in a baseball cap pulled low over his face got out, c

wore a plain trench coat, her head down, looking for all the world like any ot

wheel, my knuckles turning white. The

eries of photos: Keaton's car, him entering the cafe, Carolyn arriving, her furtive glance over her shoulder before she disappe

leave. I didn't need to. I

iscreet medical facility in the region, nestled high in the hills overlooking Aethelgard.

umn air doing little to calm the nervous energy thrumming through me. I pulled a slim menthol cigarette from a pack in the glove compartmen

ignia on its plates swept silently through the gate

rm of another. He was tall, but his frame was lost in a heavy, black wool overc

al cousin whispered to be cursed with a blood

is lips. Standing beside him, steadying him, was a man I recognized from society pages: Julian M

is profile. And then it happened. A strange, inexplicable jolt, deep in my soul. A

hite wolf pup, its leg caught in a poacher's rusty trap. Its eyes, a startling shade of deep amber, had been filled not with fear, but

. He lifted his head, and his gaze swept across the grounds

ross the hundre

n. They were sharp, piercing, and held an ancient, predatory power that made the breath catch in my throa

hysical shock, a live

more violent coughing fit wracked his body. He pressed the handkerchief to his mouth again, his should

car's ashtray and rolled up the window, m

ly's betrayal. But it had shown me very little about Charles

hat brief, shattering glance-he was no m

ret. And a d

curb. The annual Pack Hunt was in three days.

uld be w

-