There was more to it. She was sure of it. But she also didn’t think he was lying in his assessment of the danger. It wouldn’t fit with the man she was slowly coming to know. He had a sense of honor about him. Not one she had completely figured out yet, but it was there.

“Is it one of the ones who put the scars on your back?”

He stiffened, and she knew she’d gone further than she should have.

“I don’t want to talk about them.”

Well, that was obvious. “I’m not asking you to. I’m asking if it might be—”

“I certainly hope not. But even if it is, it’s no concern of yours.”

Lyra recoiled a little at the coldness in his voice, something she hadn’t heard since their very first meeting. She wondered again who had done that to him, what it meant. But that, it seemed, was off limits. He didn’t seem to want to talk about the past. Which should have been fine.

Except that she wanted to know more about him, whether or not she ought to.

The car lapsed into silence as she pulled into the driveway, comforted by the familiarity of the house, the cheery lights against the dark. She’d had so many simpler, happier times here. It was a comfort, but it also made her sad. Everything was so complicated now… her feelings were complicated. She’d known that the path she’d started on would be a lonely one. But it surprised her how much Jaden’s company made her crave the sort of connection she’d long denied herself.

The sort of connection he seemed to be offering, albeit temporarily.

He was so quiet, Lyra had almost forgotten Jaden was there with her, until he spoke up with a new hesitance in his voice.

“Will you give some thought to the rest of what I’ve said?” he asked as she pulled the keys from the ignition and put her hand on the door handle.

That was the big question, she supposed. And there would be no avoiding it, one way or another. Lyra took a deep breath, turning to look him in the eyes. “I think it’s probably a bad idea,” she said. “But I honestly don’t know. I guess I need some time to think about it.”

“Fair enough,” Jaden said softly, and she didn’t think she’d ever seen him look so serious despite the fact that he rarely smiled. “My offer stands for as long as I’m here. Just let me know.”

Her heart, treacherous as ever, fluttered nervously in response.

“Deal,” she said, and then, anxious to get her racing heart under control, changed the subject to something lighter. “Let me get changed, and we’ll head out to the fields on the west side of town on four legs. Less conspicuous.” She couldn’t help a small jab. “As long as you think you can keep up.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Jaden said. “I’m as anxious as you are. Your cousin may be lacking a personality, but he’s made up for it in brawn. We’ve got work to do.”

His grin was utterly wicked and full of sensuous promise… if she were brave enough to take him up on it. She would see.

The wolf padded silently through the underbrush, his massive paws barely making a sound as he headed for the falls. He’d needed a run, badly. But even that had failed to ease his mind tonight… so he would try to find his peace at the falls and hunt some of the wild things that hid from him in the underbrush. In that, he felt a strange kinship to the town’s unwelcome visitor. Both he and the vampires found comfort in blood.

He hadn’t been surprised to find Lyra playing bodyguard to the bloodsucker. She was prickly, but the sharp exterior hid her biggest weakness: a soft heart. He kept tabs on her. He knew full well where she ran off to on the occasions she decided to disappear. She’d hung around vamps before, and why not? That’s where the power was. Where it would always be. He could understand the attraction to power.

But Lyra was never going to have the wherewithal to gain any for herself, or for the pack. That alone made her unfit to be Alpha, more important even than the fact that she was just a woman. That kill would be sweet, the wolf thought as he moved in and out of shadow like a ghost.

He hoped he would have time to savor it. The Proving didn’t worry him. He’d have help if he needed it, which he wouldn’t. The competition was pathetic, none more than Lyra.

But her new vampire pet was going to be a problem. This Jaden was no transient no-name lowblood. His connections could screw up everything, and yet the wolf had been told nothing about him, had had no advance warning of last night’s attempt to deal with him. How was he supposed to manage the situation if he was being cut out of the loop?

He’d clawed his way in, and he’d worked his ass off to line everything up. The pieces were all in place. And he’d be damned if Lyra was going to screw it up at the last minute by making sad cow eyes at some freshly minted Lilim.

He would have killed the bitch already, if he’d thought he could get away with it.

The wolf leaped over a fallen tree and kept his pace steady, letting the scents of the forest at night calm his frayed nerves. He had a lot on his plate these days—more than anyone knew—and on some nights, like tonight, keeping it all together proved almost overwhelming.

Just three weeks, he told himself. A little over three weeks, and I’m set.

A shadow peeled off one of the trees up ahead, so quickly and silently that he didn’t notice until he was almost on top of it. When he did see the shadow in his path, he jerked to a halt, too startled even to growl. There was an exasperated sigh as cool blue eyes gleamed at him in the darkness.

“Situational awareness,” said a soft, cultured voice with a posh English accent. “Learn it, wolf. I could have killed you ten times over by now if I’d felt like it.”

The wolf shifted quickly into a human to stand in front of the slim, elegant silhouette that the vampire presented and tried to hide his shock that a Shade, any Shade, would want to talk to him after cutting him off so completely. He’d met this one only once, but he hadn’t forgotten the sharp tongue or the air of superiority. Maybe it was the cat vamp blood that made him so insufferable.

“What do you want, Damien?” he asked. “If the Shades want to talk to me, there are safer ways to do it.”

There was a derisive snort. “I’m in no danger here. You, on the other hand, are in a lot more if you don’t watch yourself.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

But inside, cold tendrils of fear began to wrap around his heart. He’d gone to the Shades because he’d wanted to spread his wings a little, to learn how the truly powerful conducted their business… and how they destroyed one another. The short time he’d spent with them had been very instructive.

And it had led to far greater things than a society of criminals.

“Oh, I think you do. So let me begin by saying that the House of Shadows doesn’t take kindly to apprentices who use us to find better positions.”

“I didn’t use anyone,” he snapped, imagining the pleasure he would get out of wringing Damien Tremaine’s neck and then popping his head right off his shoulders. Vampires were pricks, by and large, but Damien was in a class by himself. “Anyway, what do you care if I made a useful contact? You let me go, remember? Drake said he didn’t like my style.”

“Very true,” Damien replied blandly. “Since that style of yours involved a rather higher body count than what had been ordered. And there was that lowblood maid you left in pieces. In fact, that was the last straw, wasn’t it?”

He wished he didn’t know what the vampire was talking about, but it was hard to forget. “She got in the way,” he growled. “I was just doing my job.”

“Unacceptable. It was sloppy work, and the House of Shadows has a reputation for being quick, clean, and discreet. I don’t know how many times Drake is going to have to beat his head against the wall with one of these grand ideas of his, but I warned him you weren’t suited to be an apprentice.”

“Because I’m a wolf?” He snorted. “You vamps are all alike. Think your shit doesn’t stink.”

“Actually, it’s because you’re an unreliable thug with sociopathic tendencies. You being a wolf is irritating, but not the issue. You were his first go at a wolf, but I doubt you’ll be the last.” A sigh. “I understand the need to keep his fingers in a lot of pies, but your kind isn’t really suited to our needs. Next it’ll be a pixie or some damned thing.”

The wolf’s blood heated to a slow boil. He’d thought long and hard before seeking out the famed House of Shadows, the guild of vampire assassins and thieves. And he’d managed to get Alistair Drake, the Shade Master, to give him a shot at an apprenticeship. So it hadn’t worked out… it had been worthwhile regardless. Fortunately, he hadn’t gotten far enough in to be considered a liability to the Shades. They didn’t tend to let those go.

He flexed his fists, claws extending and retracting, and willed himself to hold it together.

“Did you come all the way out here just to tell me off?” he asked quietly. “Or did you have something useful to offer?”

Those blue eyes went ice cold, and the wolf actually felt uneasy. He hadn’t worked with Damien. From what he’d heard, the vamp had refused to. But he had to be a favorite of Drake’s for a reason. And the Shades were a lot more cold-blooded than he’d figured on. He doubted they’d get in his way once he was Alpha, or at least not openly. Wasn’t their style. But he wasn’t Alpha yet.

“I was sent to give you a message, from Drake. And he’s a man who’s been watching the dynasties for centuries, not to mention meddling in them for pay, so I suggest you heed his advice.”

The wolf rolled his shoulders impatiently. He wanted his run, he wanted to get through this month, and more than anything, he desperately wanted never to have to interact with a Cait Sith or a Lilim ever again. At least not to speak. Hunting them down would be a pleasure.

“Say what you have to, and then get out of here before I call out the guard.”