"Please?"

He looked around, fingers drumming against his leg, as if almost hoping he wouldn't see anything to write on. I took a sheet and pen from the tiny writing desk. He sketched a few runes, not even pausing to consider which to do, as if he already knew. Then he quickly folded the sheet in quarters and reached around me to tuck it into my back pocket, using the opportunity to lean close, body pressing against mine.

I whispered, "If we finish this tonight, you won't need to rush back to New York before morning, will you?"

"Make a mess and leave you to clean it up? That wouldn't be right. I'd have to stay an extra day or two, to help."

"Good."

AFTER JEREMY and Karl left, Hope slipped away to get a better picture of the house-entry points, escape routes, "safe" rooms and such. I doubted we'd need any of them. Jeremy had told Zack Flynn that I'd flown back to Chicago to escape the media attention.

But scouting the property probably made Hope feel more useful, so when she suggested it, I said it sounded wise and promised to stay in my room until she returned.

While she was gone, I took a moment to sort out my thoughts. I was worried about Jeremy. Though I didn't doubt he could look after himself, I wasn't comfortable having Karl Marsten as his only source of backup. And I knew Jeremy was equally uncomfortable with it, as much as he'd pretended otherwise.

Six years ago, a group of outside werewolves had banded together to overthrow the Pack. Clay had been kidnapped and tortured. Two of Jeremy's Pack brothers had been killed. Only one member of that rebel group survived: Karl Marsten.

In the final battle, Elena had spared Karl because he'd helped her. Then, with Clay's support, she'd asked Jeremy to pardon him. Before the uprising, Karl had never caused any trouble for the Pack-even been on good terms with them. He hadn't participated in the killings or Clay's torture, and had joined the group for a reason the werewolves could understand-the wolf's instinctive need for territory, which the Pack had denied him.

So Jeremy had granted Karl his reprieve and territory in a distant state on the condition that he at least consider joining the Pack. It was all very fair, very Solomon-like, very Jeremy.

Now Karl had joined the Pack and proven himself a loyal and useful member. And the Pack had accepted him. Including Jeremy… or so everyone thought.

Jeremy gave every appearance of supporting and even encouraging Karl's membership. It was what he considered the best way to deal with Karl.

Yet he couldn't forget what Karl had done. Maybe Karl hadn't personally killed Peter or Logan. Maybe he hadn't beaten Clay. Maybe he'd even acted as a buffer, keeping Clay from the worst of his captor's hate. But he'd sanctioned all that by standing aside until he saw the tables turning and only then had he flipped sides.

Jeremy strove to accept Karl as a Pack brother. Clay had been the one tortured, and he'd forgiven Karl, so why shouldn't Jeremy? But, to me, thatwas the very reason why he couldn't. It was easy to forgive someone for what he did to you. Not so easy when he did it to someone you love. Clay looks at Karl now, shrugs and says, "It was just business." Jeremy looks at him and sees the man who stood by and watched his son be beaten within an inch of his life.

Obviously, though, whatever Jeremy's feelings toward Karl, he trusted him enough to track him down this morning and ask him to join us. But I knew he'd rather have any other Pack member at his side. And so would I.

NEXT I contacted Eve, as I'd promised Jeremy. While she couldn't physically protect me, she could keep watch even better than Hope- with no chance of looking suspicious-and could alert me if she found trouble.

When I explained what was happening, Eve sat cross-legged on the bed, considering it in silence for a moment.

"So Jeremy's meeting this kid who says he has info on the group, but really he's a part of the group, or so you presume. Meaning he'll likely lead Jeremy into a trap. Being forewarned, though, Jeremy will be springing the trap, not walking into it."

"Right."

Another moment of quiet thought, then she nodded. "Not bad. But I do have a problem with one big part of it."

"Which is?"

"The part that has you sitting here guarded by a chaos demon."

"Hope's not-"

"Oh, I know what she is. A complete stranger, and your life is in her hands."

I shook my head and started emptying the dry-cleaning bag dropped off earlier. Eve strode over and parked herself "on" the bag, her form obscuring it.

"You're ignoring me, Jaime. I'm raising a valid point."

"No, you're being paranoid, which comes from a lifetime of needing to be paranoid. Hope isn't some black-market contact like Molly Crane. She helps the council. Jeremy knows her-"

"Elena is her contact, isn't she? And that's mainly professional. They don't hang out together."

"Jeremy knows her and he trusts her."

There was nothing she could-or dared-say to that, so she started pacing as I emptied the bag.

"So while he's gone, you're here, guarded by a chaos demon who's not even around-"

"She's scouting the property. She checked in on me before I called you."

Eve walked to the window and looked out. "Who's backing Jeremy up?"

"A Pack brother. Karl Marsten. He's-"

"Oh, I know who Karl Marsten is. A career criminal and a drifter." She shook her head. "I know guys like Marsten. You and Jeremy don't, so you can be forgiven for not seeing past that suave show of his. How old is he? Your age? Older, probably? He's spent the last forty years not giving a shit about anyone. Guys like that don't wake up one morning and turn team player. He's using the Pack. He doesn't care about anyone in it-"