He was a man with a killer’s face, living through a tragedy with his people dwindling away, and he was fighting for existence any way he knew how. He was using her, and she knew it, and she was going to let him.

At least for teaching him how to cast the silver rune.

That was all. Just the rune.

Because she had grown a little over the years, and she had learned a lot about herself. She knew she was an asshole magnet, and if there ever was an asshole, this guy was it.

So. She would help him with just the rune.

That was more than enough, and she was being more than generous after the way he had behaved. She understood what had happened and why he had acted the way he had. She could let bygones be bygones, but they weren’t going to magically turn around and become besties during the course of a single evening.

“I’m done talking,” she said. It was raw and awkward, but he didn’t seem to mind in the least. She paused. “By the way, how did you get here without me hearing you?”

He stepped back. “I parked at the road and walked up the drive.”

“Oh. Well, we can talk sometime soon about when I’ll teach you how to make the colloidal silver and cast the rune, but for now, I’ve had enough. Good night.”

Exhaustion was beginning to color the edges of her thinking. As she turned to walk to the Mini, she looked around. She really wasn’t Robin’s keeper, and he was free to take off whenever he felt like it, but it was going to bother her if he didn’t show up by the time she started the car.

She needn’t have worried. As she opened the door of the Mini, a dark streak raced across the open lawn from the shadow of the neighboring forest, tail up and wagging. She raised her eyebrows as the dog reached the open door and leaped in. The change in him from when she had found him wandering down the road was remarkable.

Sliding into the driver’s seat, she murmured, “You’re feeling better, I take it.”

Large bright eyes blinked at her from the shadowed darkness. For a brief moment, as she looked at Robin, she caught a flash of something else. Something that wasn’t a dog. Blinking rapidly, she tried to see it again, but the vision was gone.

The moonshadow had offered its magic to her again.

“Is it wrong to pet you as if you really were a dog?” she asked, holding out her hand.

Even though she didn’t live the kind of lifestyle that was good for a dog, she was going to miss the dog she had thought Robin was. He sniffed at her fingers and didn’t seem to mind as she scratched him gently behind the ear.

Smiling to herself, she started the car and turned on the interior light to inspect the raised blisters that ringed his neck. They were completely healed. He was indeed feeling better.

She switched off the light and headed back down the drive. When she pulled out between the gateposts, she didn’t see a car parked on the side of the road, so Nikolas must have already left.

Even driving the unfamiliar roads slowly and carefully, the drive back to the pub took less than ten minutes. As she pulled into the parking lot and opened the door, the sound of screaming split the night.

The screaming came from inside the pub. It was a woman’s voice.

Maggie.

This time adrenaline hit hard, and the only imperative it gave her was fight.

Stupid. Crazy.

She lunged out of the car and sprinted for the pub, straining with every sense to glean information about what was happening inside.

The screaming came from the front. From the pub side. As she rounded the corner of the building, a gun went off. One shot.

A monkey leaped and ran beside her, shrieking at her.

A… a capuchin monkey… a monkey?

Her stride faltered, and she stared at it. As it yelled at her, she saw in the light of a nearby streetlamp the monkey had no tongue. “Go back to the car!” she ordered.

Instead, Robin jumped to hang on her leg. He dragged at her, clearly trying to stop her from going forward.

She tried to brush him off as she charged toward the front door. Toward what used to be the front door. The door itself was in shreds, a piece of wood still hanging from the hinges.

Ignoring the monkey hanging on her leg—at least he had stopped shrieking although his hard little monkey fingers pinched at her thigh painfully—she slowed, walked along the edge of the building quietly, and peered in.

There was blood everywhere, with furniture knocked awry, body parts and playing cards strewn everywhere, and monsters.

Huge, very werewolf-y looking monsters. One monster savaged a body. As she stared at it, Arran stood up from behind the bar and fired a hunting rifle point-blank into the face of a second monster that rushed toward him. It fell but just as quickly rolled onto its feet.

Aw, damn. It was never a good sign when bullets didn’t faze a creature.

She didn’t pause to think. Instead, she acted. Lunging toward the monster that was getting to its feet, she slapped the confusion spell onto its back. It faltered and looked over its shoulder at her.

For a breathless moment she looked down a massive, bloody muzzle with long, sharp teeth meant for rending. The monster turned toward her, and it kept turning in a circle… and turning. Its growl changed to a puzzled whine.

Arran was dead white and shaking. “What the fuck is wrong with it?”

“Doesn’t matter.” She gasped. “It’ll do that for hours.”

She felt a rush of air. The monkey had climbed up her body and shrieked an earsplitting warning in her ear. Arran jerked the rifle up to his shoulder and fired just behind her. Whirling, she saw the first monster already climbing to its feet.