“How?” Ned said roughly, skeptical.

Caleb curled a smile for him. “They’ve got their wolves standing guard. Like they always do. I may not know where the vampires are, but I can find their wolves.”

Antony stepped forward. “Then we’ll attack—”

“No,” I said. I started pacing, trying to catch a thought before it fled. “If we know which of the werewolf guards have moved, we’ll know who was in on the attack—which of the Masters are allied with Jan and by extension Mercedes—”

“And therefore Roman,” Ben said.

“So we can attack,” Antony reiterated, frowning.

“That’s not the point,” I said. “An attack is going to end up like the one we just had, lots of fighting with no real result. We can’t take the vampires on their home ground so there’s no point fighting their wolves. We don’t want them fighting us, we just want—”

“We want them to leave,” Caleb said. “Kitty’s right. My folk and I killed eight werewolves tonight. You lot can have your war, but it’s us that keep dying, and I’m sick of it. Go after your vampires, but I won’t let you go through more wolves to do it.”

“That’s just it—we can talk to the wolves. Oh, we can do this,” I said. My thoughts had caught up with my subconscious. Wolf and I both knew what to do here. We just had to prove to them that we were the stronger alpha, smarter even than their Masters. And they’d listen to us, right?

Ha.

“Caleb,” I said. “We have to find them. I need to talk with them—all of them.”

“You think they’ll just stand still to listen to you? Are you daft?” Ned glared, but I stood my ground. I was right. I was sure I was right.

“Don’t underestimate her ability to talk,” Ben said, his expression wry. He was enjoying this, the bastard. “It’s her superpower.”

“I don’t believe you,” Ned said. “I don’t believe you can manage this.”

“Caleb,” I said. “Will you help?”

His smile turned toothy. “I’m in. I want to see this. How about it, Ned? Give us your blessing, won’t you?”

“Do I have a choice? As soon as the sun rises you’ll do what you want, am I right?”

“You’ll just have to trust us,” the werewolf said. “Isn’t that what this is all about? Look at us—working together.”

“We should get going,” I said, my eyes bright, my nerves jumpy. Cormac—we had to call Cormac and let him know what was happening. Maybe he’d have some advice, however unlikely that seemed. He was used to shooting, not talking.

Caleb nodded, and we headed for the door.

“Before you go,” Ned said. “You mind if we take care of this one for you?” He pointed at their prisoner.

Caleb scowled at the inert body. “Be my guest.”

Apparently, advocating for the benefit of werewolves in general was one thing. But this one had attacked him and his people. Sympathy was forfeit. I couldn’t say that was the wrong attitude.

“Marid, have you eaten tonight? Would you like a bit?” Ned said, nudging the unconscious werewolf with a booted toe. “Antony?”

“I think you’re still in need of a boost, wouldn’t you say?” Antony answered.

“I daresay there’s enough for all of us to share.”

Antony actually rubbed his hands together.

“That’s it,” I muttered. “I’m out of here.”

“I’m sure we could all share,” Ned said. “The four of us will only take his blood, after all.”

He was only being polite. I glanced at Ben, whose face had gone scrunched up, bemused. It was what happened when your stomach turned and your mouth watered at the same time.

“I don’t … eat people,” I said.

“Not at all?” Antony said. “Ever?”

I paused, wincing. Bringing up the issue ignited the memory of a taste on the back of my tongue, flesh and blood, the iron warmth of it squishing between sharp teeth, gulping down my throat. It wasn’t even my memory, it was Wolf’s. I hardly remembered it, except that the sensory detail had never gone away. “Just that one time.”

Ned gave me an inquiring look. “You? Really?”

“The other one was just a nibble…” I really did have to stop and think about how many people I’d taken a chunk out of. I put a hand on my forehead. The night had gotten very long indeed.

“I’m not sure I know about the other one,” Ben said, looking at me with … curiosity? Admiration?

“It was that guy in Montana,” I said.

“Ah.”

“Ms. Norville, you are constantly intriguing,” Marid said, leaning on his cane. Even Caleb regarded me appraisingly.

“I really think it’s time for us to go. You guys have fun.” I grabbed Ben’s hand and pulled him from the parlor.

Emma put a hand on my arm in the doorway. “Thanks. For sticking up for me.”

I shook my head. “They were just grasping at straws. I don’t think they were serious.”

“Ned would have killed me himself if he thought I’d turned spy.” She gave a nervous hiccup of a laugh. “I didn’t want to be a vampire. I thought I’d rather be dead. I can’t tell you how many times I almost opened the curtains at dawn to kill myself. But now, it’s almost funny. I don’t want to die.”

“Good,” I said. I touched her hand, surprised as I always was at how cold she was—she had no heat, no blood of her own.

“It should be night in D.C. by now,” she said. “Do you think I should call Alette? Tell her what’s happening?”

“I think that’s a good idea,” I said. “Let me know what she says.”

She stayed behind to take part in Ned’s leftovers. I didn’t want to see it.

Back in the hallway, Caleb waited for us. When footsteps sounded in the back foyer, we all jumped, then stalked forward. I had a sickening vision—that Jan and Mercedes had anticipated us, sent their own attack first—

We met Cormac coming in through the back door, smelling of the city’s chill nighttime air. He studied us with curiosity. His shoulders tensed—all the surprise he showed.