Jackal Moon - The Moon Series (Battista)_Book 2 - Jeanette Battista

JACKAL MOON Jeanette Battista Copyright 2012 Jeanette Battista All rights reserved Smashwords Edition, License Notes This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. Discover other titles by Jeanette Battista at Smashwords.com: Leopard Moon (Volume 1 of the Moon series)

Table of Contents Prologue Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty-One Chapter Twenty-Two Chapter Twenty-Three Chapter Twenty-Four Chapter Twenty-Five Chapter Twenty-Six Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight Chapter Twenty-Nine Chapter Thirty Chapter Thirty-One Chapter Thirty-Two Chapter Thirty-Three Chapter Thirty-Four Chapter Thirty-Five Chapter Thirty-Six Chapter Thirty-Seven Chapter Thirty-Eight Hyena Moon Preview Acknowledgements About the Author

Prologue Bomani stood on the front lawn of the white house, looking out at the water. The sun was setting, turning the sky a molten orange-red. It looked like the water should be boiling with the fire sinking below the horizon. Feathery light clouds crossed over the deep pinks, hot oranges, and wicked reds that painted the sky in colors of conflict. And conflict was coming, Bomani had no doubt about that. He'd been clan counselor to two wereleopard clan leaders; he could tell when change was in the air. He'd watched when Sekhmet had killed his own father—and Bomani's lifelong friend—to replace Darius as leader of their clan. He'd looked on when Sek had fought his sister Kess and had been defeated and very nearly killed. That had surprised and disappointed Bomani. He'd been counting on sister killing brother. Sek was not a stable leader for their clan. Kess was an unknown, having been away from Miami for over a year, but he was willing to risk everything on the hope that she was saner than her brother. That she had let Sek live was unexpected; that she had not accepted the mantel of clan leadership, mind-boggling. Kess had specified that Sek was to remain clan leader in her absence, with the condition that he never attempt to see or contact her again. Bomani, and all others in the clan, were under her orders to make sure Sek abided by that rule. It was proving more difficult to enforce that edict than even Bomani had been expecting. The first few months after their return from North Carolina, Sekhmet had been focused on healing after his disastrous attempt to bring Kess home. He hadn't had the strength or energy to continue his pursuit of his sister. But now that he was fully recovered, with only silvery scars on his face, throat and stomach as reminders of his ordeal, Sek was more obsessed than ever. Bomani was running out of time. The more Sek focused on his sister, the less attention he paid to the threats crowding their borders in Miami. And those threats were growing stronger every day. Kess must return home.

Masud stepped out of the house, the younger wereleopard walking over to where Bomani stood. The clan counselor waited until Masud was close, then asked, "How did he take it?" Bomani was certain he already knew the answer to his question. The other wereleopard wiped at the blood dripping from a cut on his forehead. "About how you'd expect." When Bomani pointed at the wound, Masud shrugged. "He threw two glasses at me this time. I ducked the first one, but…." The two of them stood there in silence for a few moments. Bomani knew Sek was becoming more erratic, descending into black pits of depression, followed by days of manic energy. His periods of calm were becoming fewer and farther between, especially now that Kess was denied him for good. Masud was an almost constant companion to the ill clan leader, and Bomani was grooming the young man to be his successor as counselor. Masud had a good head on his shoulders; it just remained to be seen if he could handle the less savory work that the position sometimes required. He was also the only one that Sekhmet seemed to trust lately, although that seemed to be on the wane, along with Sek’s stability. Bomani knew that drastic measures would need to be taken to ensure their clan's survival. Samara and her hyenas were already sniffing around the territory, sensing weakness. He'd already gone back to North Carolina to try and convince Kess to come home; to drive home how desperate they were becoming. She had said she'd think about it, but he had yet to hear from her. He was running out of options. And he was no longer content to wait for new ones to present themselves. Masud spoke. "I suppose I should go back in and check on him." His reluctance showed in the line of his shoulders and the look on his face. "Make sure you dose his drink. He needs a good night's sleep." Masud nodded and went back inside the house. Bomani stared at the ocean for a while longer. Then he put his hand into the interior pocket of his jacket and withdrew a disposable cell phone. He walked down to the boat dock, dialing the number that would put him in contact with the Keepers of Divine Order. They were the werecreature problem solvers, and it was not lightly that Bomani called them. He quickly explained what he required to the contact at the other end of the line. The Keepers were implacable and circumspect. They would not fail. Bomani negotiated the transfer

of funds, although he had already made the arrangements before placing the call. He hung up, saddened for a moment that the plan was in motion. Kess would soon return to Miami. One way or another.

Chapter One The incense was the thing she remembered most about her marking ceremony. It had been heavy, almost like another presence in the room. The smoke from it had sent up a thick plume that threaded through the air like a serpent, undulating in the drafts. At fourteen, Laila had been fascinated by it. It gave off a powerful scent of funerary herbs, of things she'd been smelling since the cradle. Myrrh of course, and dragsonsblood, and something almost floral--possibly yarrow. It dulled her other senses and Laila felt herself slipping into a kind of half-trance. Her father was speaking, although there wasn't anyone else there to witness the marking. It was just her and her father, and if she really believed in such things, the jackal-headed god Anubis. They sat in the basement room that served as the center of worship. The marking ceremony was a private thing, held when the initiate was fourteen. The closest thing that Laila could compare it to was a Catholic's confirmation--the time in the participant's life where they were actively choosing to follow along the path that, up until that point, had been chosen for them. With the Keepers of Divine Order, it was the same. If you were serious about service to them, and to Anubis, you were marked with a bronze knife at fourteen somewhere on your body. The Keepers of Divine Order had been around since ancient times. It was thought that the very first Keepers originated in ancient Egypt, where people with a need would go to the edges of cities, near the necropolis or cemeteries where the jackals and other night scavengers gathered, and leave their request along with an offering. The werejackals in the area would evaluate the requests and decide whether to grant them, depending upon the offering left or whether they felt the request met their requirements. Laila highly doubted that the first werejackals had been terribly picky. Laila had been raised knowing that the Order was her future. She had wanted nothing else. Weaned on stories of the Anubis Knights and their exploits, reared by a highly respected Keeper and sister to another, Laila thought her marking ceremony was a foregone conclusion. There was no other choice for her. She'd been in training since she was old enough to walk, even if she hadn't known it at the time. Her wrestling games with her father and brother had been precursors to the martial arts lessons that soon followed; private piano lessons honed swift and flexible

fingers that could strip and reassemble a rifle in record time. At fourteen, she stood before the small statue of Anubis with more fighting and weapons knowledge than most enlisted military men. The old bronze khopesh knife was placed in the center of the low table, wreathed in smoke. Laila stared at it, unable to look away. It was almost as long as a man’s forearm, the blade shaped somewhere between a claw and a sickle. She’d seen it plenty of times—it was her father’s after all and he carried it with him almost everywhere he went—but it scared her now. She felt sweat break out across her face. Her father finished intoning in his deep voice and he slewed around on his knees to face her. Her father, like everyone in her family, wasn’t tall for a man, but his lean frame was incredibly strong. Most people underestimated him because of his size. It was a mistake they would not repeat, usually because they were dead. He lifted the blade in both hands, like an offering. “This supplicant comes before you, seeking admittance to your Divine Order. May you receive her and deem her worthy.” She said the words that she had memorized. “I offer unto you my life and my service, great Lord Anubis. You are the Opener of the Way and the Lord of Order. I will be your eyes and hands here on earth. I ask that you find use for them.” Her father knee-walked over to her, the knife still held before him in one hand, a chalice in the other. He gave her an encouraging smile. “Ready?” he whispered. Not trusting herself to speak, Laila nodded. Her father drew the knife down her forehead in a vertical line above her left eye. Blood spilled out, dripping down her brow bone and into the cup he held against her face. She closed her eyes so he could continue cutting, beginning again just beneath her eye and stopping the line parallel with the tip of her nose. The smell of blood, even this small amount, was thick in the closed room. “By blood and by bone, by earth and by darkness, by life and by death, so I offer my oath.” She clenched her hands into fists, feeling hot and nauseous in the little room. Blood still dripped down her face and suddenly Laila was swept with the urge to fight, to hurt, to lash out with teeth and claw. It was almost overwhelming at first and she shook as the sensations passed through her. It was a little like when she changed forms, although she was still relatively new to it since she’d had her first change only a few months ago. When she changed, she was always in charge; it was simply another part of her that was taking precedence. This new feeling was edgier

though, almost like she danced on the edge of control. It was scary and dangerous and she was a little appalled to find out that she kind of liked it. Her father pressed a clean white cloth to her face. She would have a scar matching his and her brother's. She was a were, which meant she’d heal quickly and that the scar would be slight. Only wounds inflicted by silver or those from another were would leave telling marks behind. If her father’s scar was any indication, no one would be able to see it unless they knew where to look by the time she was his age. Her brother’s scar was still noticeable, although not glaringly so, but it too was fading with time. Her father told her to lie down. She heard him open the door and felt the circulation of fresh air as it carried out the cloying smell of the incense. He was rattling around, gathering up bottles of salves and unguents that would help the healing process. Laila didn’t care about the cut; she was more interested in this new feeling. It was still there, quiet now, having subsided back into the recesses of her head since there wasn’t anything to feed its bloody desires. She wondered briefly if this is what being consecrated to Anubis meant. Did this feeling mean the ritual worked? Or was this one of the by-products of being a werejackal? She hadn’t smelled blood since her first change, so maybe this was some kind of were response? Everything was still so new. She’d known she came from a family of werejackals and the odds were good that she would be one too, but knowing and knowing were vastly different, as she was finding out. Her father returned, cool hands removing the cloth from her face. As he worked at the cut, she thought about asking him about this new feeling. She knew she could talk to him about anything, but this she felt hesitant about and she couldn’t explain why. It wasn’t like he could look at her like she was a freak—she was exactly like him and Mebis. At the thought of her brother, Laila had her answer. She’d talk to Mebis about it when he got home. He’d know and would be straight up with her. He always was.

Chapter Two The final bell rang and Laila moved her hand away from the faint ridge that demarcated the scar from the other flesh on her face. According to what she’d told kids at school, she’d gotten whacked in the face with an oar while she’d been on vacation the summer of her fourteenth year and it had laid her open beautifully. If she'd told anyone the truth, they'd have stayed far, far away from her, farther than they did now. Three years later and the scar was fading and now students hardly gave it a second glance. She worked hard to fit in, at her father's request, even though it was difficult for her. It was a fine line he wanted her to walk: be liked, but not too well liked, be friends with many different people but don't be one of the popular crowd that drew too much notice. He wanted her to blend in and mingle with many different groups, never singled out for being too weird or too accomplished. Laila was an above average student with good grades, never a behavioral problem in her classes, had just enough extra-curriculars to look normal, but not too many that she stood out. That was the key. You didn't want to be noticed. You didn't want to be memorable. So Laila plodded along in lock-step with the rest of the junior class. She was on the school paper because she was good in English and her teacher had recommended her for it. She was in the French club because this was New Orleans after all. She ran cross country because it was a sport and she was part of a team, but she didn't have to play closely with a group or come into close contact with anyone. And above all, she quelled every one of her impulses to cut loose and show them all what she could do. And after classes and school activities, she trained. Jujitsu and karate, kung fu and kickboxing, Krav Maga and iaido, judo and aikido. She was proficient with knifes, swords, handguns and rifles, all manner of bows, and esoteric weapons too numerous to count. At seventeen, she was deadly in any number of ways, but hadn't gotten to kill anyone. Yet. But she knew the time was coming and soon. This was why she couldn't stand out from the crowd, either by being too successful or too weird. It had been hard at first to understand this, especially when she was younger. Her father's occupation made that a bit more complicated. He was a mortician, and as soon as some kids

found that out, they'd loved to tease her about it. To her it was normal; to them, completely macabre. Laila had gotten into a few fights where she'd allowed her natural instincts to run loose, but after a talk from her brother Mebis, she'd finally understood why she had to fly below everyone's radar. Sometimes it went against Laila's very nature, even now. She wasn't one of those pretty, brainless girls with nothing worrying her head but the next trip to the mall to buy the latest must have purse or pair of shoes. She wasn't inclined to manufacture drama just so she could have the starring role. But she also wasn't meek and quiet and content to be led around by her peers either. She couldn't wait until she graduated and could stop being under a microscope. That's what high school felt like for her; one wrong step and everything would be analyzed to the smallest detail, and that was the last thing she or her family wanted. Laila went to her locker to grab the books she'd need for her homework tonight. Exams started next week, and then summer break. Thank Anubis. Her messenger bag was almost full when Genevieve leaned against an adjacent locker and grinned crookedly at her. "What?" Laila turned her head to look at her best friend. "I know something you don't know," Genevieve sing-songed. "The entire periodic table of elements?" Chemistry was not Laila's strong subject. It probably boded ill for a future in demolitions. "Yes, but this is something way better. Guess again." "I hate it when you're smug." Genevieve was Laila's oldest friend. They'd met in third grade and had been inseparable ever since. Gen knew everything about Laila that was germane to tell another soul who wasn't a werebeast. "Spill it." Gen grabbed her arm and whispered in her ear. "Cam's going to ask you out. How's that for juicy?" Laila looked up at her friend; Gen was, like everyone else, taller by several inches. "How'd you find this out?" Gen ran a hand through her dark hair, fluffing the pixie cut. "He might have mentioned it to Terry who may have then told Ryan who then told his girlfriend, Barbara, who in turn may have mentioned it to me during fifth period. I couldn't wait to tell you!"

"Yeah, well, Cam hasn't actually asked me anything, so you'll forgive me if I don't start picking out names for our firstborn." Laila shut her locker and made her way down the hall towards the double doors that led outside. Gen followed, still alight with the news. "Come on, Laila. It's about time you went out on a date. It's been forever since you and Rey." Laila rolled her eyes. Rey had been her first and last boyfriend and had proven to be a total failure in every sense of the word. Her father hadn't been too keen on her dating anyone, but Laila had managed to use his own arguments against him successfully for once. It would have looked weird for a girl her age not to have a boyfriend at some point and Rey had seemed relatively harmless. She'd been fifteen when they met and they'd been together for over a year. It had been a pretty easy relationship, consisting mostly of group dates and the odd makeout session. But towards the end, it had gotten a lot more difficult. Rey was short for Reynard. It meant fox and the name was accurate for a number of reasons. Laila thought he was a complete fox; she was intensely attracted to the dark haired, dark eyed boy. And he was sly like a fox, lulling her and her family into thinking he was a nice guy and one who could be trusted. He'd been her first everything. Laila had thought their sex was great-not that she'd had anything to compare it to--and was grateful for his experience and patience the night she first slept with him. She probably should have been more curious about where and how he'd amassed that experience, but she was in love with him. He was her first love. Her first heartbreak. She found out he was cheating on her after they'd been together for a little over a year. He'd sworn it was the first time, but Laila wasn't buying it. Still, he had a way of making everything sound so reasonable--and the touch of his hand did things to her that stopped rational thought--so she gave him another chance. But she wasn't stupid. She kept tabs on him and soon found him with another girl from a different school. Laila wasn't a particularly jealous person, but she was proud. Rey had played her for a sucker. And it didn't help that jackals were monogamous creatures by nature, most of them remaining together until one of them died. She wasn't ready for that kind of commitment, but she did expect a certain amount of fidelity. She'd asked to meet with him alone, intending to tell him off, but things had gotten out of hand and she'd wound up delivering the mother of all ass kickings. He probably hadn't been able

to stand up straight for a week and there was the distinct possibility that he'd pissed blood for longer. He'd been so scared that he never told anyone what happened and she simply told everyone that they'd broken up. Only Gen knew that he'd cheated on her. Laila hadn't been interested in dating anyone after Rey, despite several offers. Gen nudged her as they walked. "Come on, it isn't a marriage proposal--it's a date. Maybe a little something extra. I hear he's good." "I love how you have access to all of this information on people's sexual histories. Do you have a network of bedroom spies that work for you or something? Is there a bunch of ninjas that hide in closets and take notes for you?" "Please, girl. I've amassed dossiers on every eligible male with in the tri-county area. I don't believe in wasting time with starter models. I'm looking for the elite." Laila gave her friend a look. “They're going to sleep with you, Gen, not overthrow a third world dictator." "You remember my father, right? Tall man, mustache, we call him Il Duce?" Laila smiled, a genuine one. Gen's dad was very protective of his little girl, raising her like a true southern belle. Gen wanted none of it and had set about a conquest of available young men to get back at the deb balls and white dresses and comportment classes, leaving a swath of broken hearts in her wake. Her father still thought of his daughter as a little girl, but Gen was hell-bent on showing him that there was nothing little about her. He responded by strict rules and ridiculous curfews, which only escalated her behavior. Gen's mother just drank her gin and tonics and tried to stay out of their way. Laila walked Gen to her car, a bright silver BMW convertible roadster. Laila thought that if Mr. Bordreaux was really interested in keeping his daughter inaccessible and unnoticeable, he might want to give her a new car, maybe a nice, boring Toyota. This one attracted way too much attention, especially from the older college guys he was trying to keep her away from. "Honestly, Laila," Gen said after sliding behind the steering wheel. "Just give Cam a shot, that's all." "I'll think about it," Laila answered, shading her eyes from the afternoon sun. "Fine. That's the best I can hope for. Need a ride?" Laila shook her head. "I'm just going to get the streetcar home." She didn't want Gen knowing that she was headed to the studio. She might want to stay and watch Laila's workout in

the hopes of scoring some cute Asian strange and Laila did not want to explain that to her dad. He already wasn't wild with the way Gen behaved, and he was still blaming her for putting ideas in Laila’s head about dating. It was better to hoof it to Master Toshi's and avoid any Gen-shaped problems. "K. Call me later!" ********* Laila pushed in the glass doors of Master Toshi's martial arts studio and passed through the small anteroom, before buzzing herself inside and heading to the changing room. The anteroom served two purposes: as a place to interview possible students and as a gate to ensure that only those meant to see what went on in the studio actually witnessed the fighting and training that took place. Master Toshi liked to be cautious. Laila, and especially her father, liked the privacy. There were a number of large men training with Master Toshi today. Usually he worked with her one on one, honing her skills from other masters and teaching her his own. Most days she fought against him, losing far more bouts than she won. Once in a while she'd spar with one of his best students, and those bouts she'd always win. She shrugged out of her clothes and into her gi, not too concerned with who she'd be facing today. She was in a weird mood. Maybe it was Gen's insistence that she go out with Cameron, or maybe it was the reminders of Rey. The school year was ending, and she'd be a senior next year. A senior and that much closer to getting out of the role that she was forced to play. She felt like her life was on hold. She knew that her first test--her true initiation into the Keepers--would be coming sometime after she graduated, but she chafed at the waiting. She was ready now. There was only so much training she could do. Maybe Gen was right. She should go out with Cam, have a good time, blow off some steam. She'd been in lockdown mode after the whole Rey thing exploded. To say her father had been less than pleased would be putting it mildly and he had doubled her sessions with Toshi until he was certain that she had her emotions under control. She hadn't minded it, not really--it gave her something concrete to focus on and to fill the void that the loss of Rey's presence had left. But it still felt like something was missing.

She missed skin to skin contact that didn't involve her fist and someone else's soft parts. She missed the soft touches, the midnight whispers, the press of Rey's body against hers. Her mother and father were very touchy-feely with each other and Mebis seemed to respond to touch like she did. She still wanted that, even if Rey had turned out to be a complete and total tool shed. Laila put all of that from her mind as she stepped out of the changing room. Master Toshi stood with his back to her and she took over a spot in the corner, warming up her muscles with some stretching exercises. She expected her instructor to dismiss most of the men, maybe keeping one or two around for her practice, but he did not. Instead he continued to give them instructions. Laila kept on with her warm-up, but gave them part of her attention, so she wasn't surprised when Toshi suddenly barked her name. She got up and met him in the middle of the floor. He gestured to the eight men in front of him. "These are your sparring partners. It is important you learn how to disable multiple targets. That will be your lesson today. You may all use anything in the studio that comes to hand. I simply ask that you avoid killing blows. Laila, your goal today is to disarm and disable your opponents. Gentlemen, your goal today is to subdue this young woman. Ready on my signal." Well, this was certainly interesting. Laila readied herself, looking for a defensible position. Unfortunately, it was a karate studio. The room was a large rectangle, the walls mirrored so you could check your form during kata practice. The floor was sanded wood, with mats stacked to one side. All in all, a perfectly open area with no hiding spaces and no higher ground. Terrific. Laila took up a fighting stance, eyes roving around the room to see what she could use for a weapon. Metal folding chairs, those would be good. Some boards and cinder blocks for testing purposes could be of use if needed. She hoped she wouldn't need them. She wasn't entirely sure how tough she could go on these guys--weres couldn't spot other weres, nor did she have any way of knowing if any of her opponents were supernatural in origin, like Master Toshi himself. She'd just have to hope she wouldn't hurt anyone too badly, and count on her instructor stopping her if things got too out of hand. Toshi gave the signal and three men rushed her. The idea that all eight could come at her was laughable. They could all come in a rush, she supposed, but then they'd be fighting each other as much as her. With them getting in each other's way, she'd have been able to slip away. It was also ludicrous to fight them one at a time--real life didn't work like that. Three or four would be the most that could engage her. She only had four sides--five if you counted above--and again,

too many in the fray and they'd wind up serving more as a distraction to themselves than a deterrent to her. She rolled backwards to give herself more room and to keep them separated from the other five. The last thing she wanted them to do was flank her or close in around her, trying to hamper her movements around the studio. Laila already knew where she needed to head: towards those chairs. One tried to engage her as she ran across the floor, attempting a leg sweep, but she saw it coming and launched herself over his leg in a leap, then tucked into a forward roll, winding up standing next to two of the chairs. She folded one flat, then moved towards them. They were wary now that she had something in her hands. They all had the reach and size on her, but she was mean and she wasn't going to fight fair. One threw a punch and she blocked with the seat of the chair, throwing a kick at him as he recovered. He stepped back and she spun the edge of the chair at his knee, connecting with a crunch. He went down, holding his leg and Laila smacked him in the head with the top of it. Toshi said a word and the man went limp. One down, seven to go. The rest of her sparring partners had gotten cautious. Again, bad move. That gave her the advantage, if she chose to take it and press her attack. Laila spun the chair around and rushed at them. All but two backed away, and these Laila engaged immediately. Again the chair spun in her hands and she blocked an attack from one, opening and closing the chair quickly to trap his arm. She held onto it, twisting the chair so that his arm was pulled in a painful angle. She followed up with a front kick to his jaw, letting the chair go as he fell over backward so that the edge wound up hitting him in the face. Toshi spoke the word again and that man was out. Six to go. She turned to face the second guy, watching as two more joined him. They must feel better now that she didn't have a weapon in her hands. Laila briefly wondered why they weren't scrabbling for anything to lay their hands on and realized it was because they still didn't think they'd need it. They were still bigger and stronger than she was, plus they had numbers on their side. And she was a girl. That was a ridiculous assumption on their part and if she'd been armed, like she usually was, they'd have paid with their lives. They would not have hesitated to use anything at their disposal if they had faced Mebis. That pissed her off, but she tamped it down. Anger could make her sloppy. She needed to focus with this many opponents coming at her. They came in a rush of three, and she was

spinning and leaping away from a flurry of punches and kicks. One lucky hit got her in the face, shoving her around, but she was rolling away even as he tried to follow up. Laila came to her feet and lashed out with her own attacks, combining everything she'd learned into a weird mashup of styles that they didn't seem to know what to do with. She dropped two more with hits to the solar plexus and groin respectively before smashing her knee into their faces. Toshi spoke twice more. Four to go. It occurred to her at this point that she was getting a little winded. And that her knife would be of great use in situations like this. A gun would be even better. The final four faced off against her. Now they would come in a rush, she could tell that from body language and from the strangely frustrated look on their faces. They came and one bowled into her, grabbing her around the waist and taking her to the floor. Her feet were already at his stomach and before her back hit, she was already shoving him off, her hands hitting the wood and vaulting her over so she wound up landing on her feet. They followed up and she was pummeled from all directions. She blocked most of their hits, but some were getting through. She wasn't able to be as effective--her skill was evasion and speed--but caught out like this, her lack of height was a detriment. A kick caught her in the face. She felt blood pour down from her nose and could taste it in her mouth. The blood did something to her, made her lightheaded, but in a good way. It was as if everything slowed down and she had all the time in the world to plot her next move. It had happened a couple of times before when blood had been drawn during a sparring match, but she still had no explanation for it. Rather than overthink it, she used it to her advantage now. She caught one man's wrist and twisted it, using it as leverage to move him in front of her. Using him as a shield, she was able to lash out. He was her springboard and she leaped at one man, pinning him to the ground and getting him in a hold with her legs around his neck. One twist and his neck would have been broken. Toshi called out and he went limp. Five down. Laila pushed away from him, already blocking kicks and punches from the remaining two. The young man with the bad wrist was watching from a safe distance. One man tried to catch her from behind around her middle, obviously trying to lift her off of her feet. She let him grab her, pushing her feet off the floor and throwing her body weight backwards before he had a really good grip. He toppled over, landing on his back like a fallen tree. Laila was already breaking the

hold and coming to her feet, but before she could do anything about the guy on the floor, the other one was on her. He swept her feet out from under her and the floor was a bad place for her to be. If it had been one on one, it would have been different; Laila could grapple with him all day long. But with two other opponents waiting to dog-pile on her, fighting on the floor was not ideal. She was angry for a second—this wasn’t really a good test of her abilities because she had to be careful not to break anybody. That her opponents were sparring under the same disadvantage was not something she wanted to think about. This was only unfair for her, damn it. She took out the one who had gotten her with the leg sweep with a kick to the knee. He fell almost on top of her. She was just getting to her feet when something heavy and hard struck her in the back, sending her smashing face first into the wood floor. Instinct saved her from a mashed nose as she caught herself on her hands. She looked up to find the guy with the injured wrist holding one of the folding chairs. Laila was ticked. So one of them had finally decided to make use of the chairs like she had done earlier now that it looked like she might win the bout. He’d put her back on the floor in the same vulnerable position. Laila decided that she was through playing nice. Let Master Toshi put these clowns back together again, she was here to win. These guys were good, but they probably weren’t going to run in the same circles as she would be so there was nothing on the line for them. Winning meant everything to her. In less than two minutes, Laila stood panting in the middle of the floor. The chair she was holding dripped blood onto the smooth wood. A man’s nose would need to be set, but from what she could tell she hadn’t done any permanent damage. Master Toshi clapped his hands and the young men all got up and bowed to him before filing back into their changing room. Some had to have help. Master Toshi walked over to her, circling her. Laila knew the old man wasn’t pleased with her by the way his nostrils quivered. If he’d been wearing his fox shape, his whiskers would be shaking. Toshi was not a were, but a kitsune—a Japanese fox spirit. He was training Laila, as he had trained Mebis, as a favor to their father. “Lost a bit of control there at the end,” he said by way of assessment. Laila shrugged. Wasn’t much she could say by way of argument. She gestured to her nose and Toshi threw a

cotton towel at her. She pinched her nose closed and tilted her head back in an effort to stop the bleeding. “Sloppy. You lost sight of one of them and he got you with the chair. You won’t get a second chance for such a mistake in the real world.” When she stayed silent, he chuffed a sigh. “Laila, you have much potential, but you get in the way of yourself. Your loss of control does not benefit you.” She lowered her head so she could face her instructor, but kept the pressure on her nose. “My loss of control was the only thing that saved my butt. If I hadn’t let loose, those guys would have pinned me.” Toshi shook his head. “You are young--of course you see it that way. But if you had kept your head, you might have seen any number of different options left available to you.” Laila would have snorted if she didn’t have a towel pressed against her nose. The kitsune heaved an exasperated sigh. “Go get cleaned up and return here. You will spar with me next.” Laila frowned. Sparring with Toshi meant a beating worse than the one she’d just avoided. Lovely. She must have royally pissed him off. She trudged into the changing room to wash her face.

Chapter Three Laila walked beside Cameron Stokes through the crowded streets of the French Quarter. They’d gone there for dinner; he’d tried to pull out at least some of the stops for their first date and Laila appreciated the attempt. She was never one to turn down good etouffee. Still, it was a little over the top and touristy for her tastes. Even though it wasn’t close to Mardi Gras, people still flocked to Bourbon Street to party. Most locals avoided the area during high tourist season, but unfortunately some of the really good restaurants made their home in the Quarter, so you’d have to brave the mob at some point to try them. She snuck a glance at her date out of the corner of her eye. He was just kind of ambling, not headed anywhere in particular. He was chewing at his bottom lip, as though he had something on his mind but wasn’t sure how to bring it up. He’d gotten dressed up in a sport coat for the occasion. The blue brought out his eyes. For that reason alone—and it was a pretty good reason in her mind—Laila decided to take pity on him. She slipped her hand in his and he started, staring down at her. Laila smiled wryly, happy to see an answering smile from him. “Let’s go for a walk,” she said, content to let him lead the way. They meandered on, talking about this and that. Evening had fled and they moved farther away from the Quarter, leaving behind the music and press of people. She let Cam determine their path, which led away from the river, but he seemed content to wander with no real destination in mind. Laila was trying to be less assertive, so she didn’t speak up when they left the safety of the crowd for the quietness of the side streets. They were on Basin, growing nearer to St. Louis #1. The cemeteries were fine during the day, mostly, but they weren’t in the best area and even the locals were wary of them once night fell. Laila kept her eyes open, only half-listening to Cam’s side of the conversation as she scanned the shadows between street lights. Night had fallen and now they were walking in the dark, broken only by the halos of light thrown on the sidewalks from the iron lamp posts. Cam was a senior, from a good family—which meant old New Orleans money and status— and a total catch. He was graduating in a week and headed to college in the fall. Laila had been

surprised when he’d asked her out, her just being a junior—a senior now that the school year was technically over—and not running in the cheerleader circles, but had said yes, because please, you did not say no to six feet of eye candy when it asks you to dinner. But now Laila was rethinking her opinion of Cam. He was oblivious to the threat of danger, actively putting himself, and by extension her, in a bad situation. Maybe he was hoping to scare her by taking her on a walk near the cemetery so that she’d be all girly and snuggle against his big, strong manliness. If that was what he was going for, Laila had news for him: cemeteries were the least scary place to her, and while she might be interested in snuggling against his big, strong manliness, it wasn’t going to be because of fear. Or he could be a complete and utter moron. Laila caught furtive movement from up ahead. Cam just continued talking about his hopes for college, blind to any danger that might be coming at them. Laila shook her head. Completely sad. She kept her eyes on the shadowy space between buildings so she wasn’t surprised when the man with the knife stepped out of it to threaten them. Cam pulled her behind him, which just served to irritate her. Really? Like Cam could really take this guy? She held her tongue though; she was supposed to be just your average female who would be afraid of a mugger. She tried not to roll her eyes, and instead repeated her father’s mantra in her head. Be normal. Don’t attract attention. Keepers do not believe in calling attention to themselves. “Gimme your money,” the man said, waving the knife slowly back and forth. Sweat was pouring down his face and Laila got a brief whiff of pungent fear off of him. He wasn’t used to doing this. Which made sense to her—everyone knew that you didn’t really want to go after the tourists. They hardly ever carried cash. Most petty criminals waited until the bars and restaurants closed and then robbed servers and bartenders for their cash tips which could net them a nice payday. This guy was strictly amateur hour. Cam was already getting out his wallet. Laila’s lip curled up in disgust. She’d heard from her father in one of his endless lessons to her that most people were more afraid of knives than they were of guns, what with guns being so commonplace these days. There was something scary about a weapon that could rip into you at close range, something so intrusive and personal about a knife attack that made people even more likely to freeze up and go along with whatever was being asked of them so they didn’t get hurt.

Which was what Cam was doing now. “Laila, your purse. Give him your purse,” he hissed between clenched teeth, throwing the guy his wallet. Laila was further saddened. If you wanted to get away from someone holding a knife who was trying to rob you, you threw the wallet or purse in the opposite direction you planned to run and booked it. You didn’t throw it directly to the guy. Laila slid out from behind Cam and moved away from him so that she wouldn’t be hampered in her movements. “No.” “WHAT?!” The horror on Cameron’s face was priceless. “Bitch, you best give me the bag or…” “No,” Laila repeated quietly. She wasn’t afraid of knives; she’d been happily handling weapons of one kind or another almost her whole life. So long as the knife wasn’t silver—and it wasn’t—she had nothing to worry about. The way he was holding it, the cant of his body, his fear, all told her that he wasn’t a real threat to her. She could take him, armed or not. And she had no intention of letting him take her purse, whether or not her father wanted her to keep a low profile. Nobody stole from her. Period. She eyed the man. He was taller than she was, which wasn’t saying much since she topped out at 5’2”. He was muscled, but they were going to slack so he wasn’t a pro. He was jittery and shaky too, so he could be strung out. Her assessment came quickly: pantywaste. Either the guy would run off or he’d attack. She could handle either. He lunged at her with the knife. It wasn’t a very good thrust and he wasn’t moving very fast, probably just wanting to scare her into thinking he meant business. But to Laila, if he’d meant business, he wouldn’t be carrying around a little pigsticker and she and Cam wouldn’t still be drawing breath. For her, this was just exercise. She shoved Cam out of her way as soon as he moved, which also put her in a favorable position to grab his wrist as the hand with the knife shot past her. Laila dug her fingers into the tendons of his wrist, latching on with her other hand as well. The man cursed, dropping the knife. Laila didn’t let go, instead using his momentum to swing him around in an arc so he faced the brick wall of a building. Her foot connected with the small of his back—she heard her skirt rip— and she let go of his arm, kicking him hard in the direction of the wall. He smacked into it, barely turning his face so he got a mouthful of brick, leaving a smear of blood where he slid down.

Laila was already after him before he’d even hit, grabbing his hair and slamming his head into the wall a couple more times before letting him drop. Her father and instructors had always taught her to make sure her target was well and truly disabled before turning away. She had no interest or need to kill this guy, but leaving him unconscious was something she could happily do. She scooped up Cam’s wallet, then went to find the knife and kicked it away. She turned to look at Cameron, who just stood there slack-jawed. She grabbed his arm, propelling him away from the fallen man and back into the crowd of the Quarter. He stumbled along with her for a few minutes, then began to fumble for his phone. “What are you doing?” “Calling the cops. They need to pick up that guy before he hurts somebody.” Boy Scout. Big damn Boy Scout. He’d get her locked up if she wasn’t careful, or at least mentioned in a police report. She grabbed the phone from his hand and pulled him deeper into the throng of people crowding the streets. “You can’t tell anyone what you saw tonight.” “Why not? You were amazing—that guy was going to rob us!” If possible, he sounded like a starry-eyed fangirl. It made Laila regret ever agreeing to this date. She had no interest in Cam now. “But he didn’t, and he probably isn’t going to bother anybody else for a good long time, if ever. I don’t want anyone to know about this. My dad will kill me.” Not exactly true, but she’d likely get a stern talking to about the use of force in public. “I don’t get it. It was self-defense. You wouldn’t be in trouble.” Laila shook her head. He wasn’t going to let this go. He’d probably spout off something about civic duty or nonsense like that next. She’d have to find something else to distract him with. “Cam, it doesn’t work like that.” He was off though, spouting out legalities he probably got from watching CSI. “That guy attacked us. You were only defending yourself. How could your dad be ma…” Laila put a slender finger over his lips to stop his babbling. "Trust me on this one." His blue eyes narrowed in confusion, but she didn't remove her finger from his lips. She couldn't stand him speaking anymore. He sounded so normal, so nice, so not her speed. He may be cute, but there wasn't any draw for her, especially after seeing how he responded to danger. Her adrenaline, with nothing to spur it on, was fading, leaving her feeling hollow. Cam might be good for a bit of fun for someone like Gen, but not for her. She just wanted to go home

and forget the night ever happened. Cam, though shaken, had a certain look in his eye, as if he found her more appealing after seeing her hand someone their ass. It just made her more tired. The last thing she wanted was him hanging around. Laila smiled at him, lowering her hand. "Please, Cam. Can we just drop it?" She figured she'd try for wilting flower and see how that played out. All she wanted to do was end the discussion and have him take her home. He took her hand in his. She allowed it. "Sure, sure. I'm sorry if it upset you." He rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb. Now he was all concerned and Laila had to bite back a snort of disgust. The danger was over and he was lapsing into the big, strong man role again. It didn't matter to her that she was sort of encouraging it to get him to shut up about telling the cops. She found his posturing ridiculous. She dropped his hand. "I'm ready to go home." She set off to where he had parked the car, knowing that he'd follow behind her, content to trail in her wake.

Chapter Four Laila crouched on the padded gym floor, eyeing her sparring partner’s midsection, waiting for him to make a move. The bout had gone on for far too long already; in real life, it would have been over, one way or the other. She had real life experience to finally back that assessment up. At least the mugger from the Quarter had been good for something. She was glad for that real world knowledge that fights didn’t last long. You didn’t get into epic street battles that lasted for twenty minutes. That only happened in the movies. Laila figured the way it usually worked was one opponent would be killed or disabled quickly, either through surprise or trickery, or they would be discovered and the attack would be broken off for another time. The idea was to be nearly invisible. Accomplish the task and fade away like smoke, not stand there pounding on each other until the cops came to arrest everybody. Her opponent today had the reach on her and was considerably heavier, but she’d been training for years in the takedown of much larger specimens than this one. He tried to fake her out, but she watched his core, following where it moved and deflected the real blow before returning one of her own and gliding away. He spun, but she was faster, already taking out his knee with a powerful side kick. As that leg buckled, she swept the other leg out from under him, making sure he hit the ground and that his legs would be of no more use to him in this fight. If they had been grappling, it might be a different set of skills she used, but this was strictly kicks and punches. She pulled back a killing blow and then turned to her teacher. “Sloppy,” Master Toshi said. He always said that. He gestured for the young man to leave while Laila awaited his critique. “There were several opportunities that you overlooked where you could have finished him off. You need to be more aggressive.” Laila blew hair out of her face. He had just gotten on her over a week ago for going too far. She knew she must not have looked as impassive as she should, because he stumped over to her, one of his tails visible behind his bow legs. Toshi was usually in human form and very careful about keeping his foxier attributes hidden. “Master, your tail,” she began, but he waved her away. She was the only one there to see it. “I don’t understand. You told me after the last fight that I was way too aggressive.”

“No,” he countered, holding up a finger. “I told you that you lost self control. There is a difference.” “Terrific. Care to tell me what that is? Master.” She added the honorific because she realized how disrespectful she sounded. She couldn’t help it. She was frustrated. “When your brother is next in town, you will spar with him. Perhaps you will understand more by seeing an example of it rather than hearing my words.” Laila sighed. Who knew when Mebis would be back in town? It was summer, and this was when she missed him most now that he was gone from the city for long periods of time. Master Toshi gestured at her, drawing her away from her thoughts. “As for your sparring today, you will be underestimated due to your size and sex.” Laila didn’t need to be reminded of that. “This is your greatest advantage! You have, at most, only a minute or two to properly disable your opponent. Do not waste it on being overly cautious. Sometimes you will have to make your own opportunities.” He looked at her carefully, as if seeing what impact the words had on her. Finally, he dismissed her. Laila bowed and headed to the dressing area to get into her street clothes. She pulled her hair out of its long ponytail and ran a hand through her blonde hair, trying to tame the flyaway strands. Quickly she stripped down and returned to the shorts and sneakers and t-shirt she'd worn into the studio. She'd grab a shower at home. She shoved her gi into her gym bag, slung that over her shoulder and walked to the bus stop. She'd been coming to the studio for the last four years. Master Toshi was an excellent teacher, and one who owed a life-debt to her father. Apparently her father had been able to extract the kitsune from a trap at one point in his long life. They didn’t speak of it much--Laila had only gotten that much by overhearing a conversation between her mother and father when they thought she was asleep. When she’d come to Toshi at thirteen, Laila'd already been trained in various weapons and martial arts; Toshi was finishing her, putting the final polish on the killing blade her father wanted her to become. She enjoyed the lessons and the fighting--and she found she was good at violence. Laila took a seat on the bench and checked her watch. She had about ten minutes before the next bus arrived, so she took out one of the books for her English class next fall to try and knock out some of the required summer reading. She didn't take much pleasure in it, but read with a

dogged determination to finish the assignment. She preferred history and science classes--those had known facts and right and wrong answers. Literature was too open to interpretation, too malleable. Give her black and white any day. She paused in her reading only long enough to board the bus. She could have walked the blocks to the mortuary her family owned, but she didn’t feel like stopping by to watch her dad work today. She wanted to go home, shower off the sweat of her workout and maybe relax for a little while. Laila didn’t get a lot of down time, not that she needed much, but it was still nice to vegetate to some music or take a nap once in a blue moon. The bus deposited her a block away from the Greek Revival mansion she called home. She took her time, strolling leisurely through the rebuilt Garden District. There had been massive damage when Katrina shrieked through New Orleans and the levees broke. Laila’s small family had left, not returning for several months, secure in the fact that their houses and businesses were spell-protected from nature’s damage and cloaked from prying eyes. The neighborhoods were recovering slowly, but there were still instances of empty lots or half-rebuilt homes to break up the landscape of Victorian and Greek Revival architecture. The trees that survived looked lusher by comparison, as if they had thrived from all of the upheaval and destruction. Maybe nature looks after its own, she thought idly. The swamps and bayou around the city had suffered, but nothing like the city itself. Now it seemed like civilization was having to fight its way back in; as if the natural order had grown stronger and fought against giving way to man once again. It made a weird kind of sense. Everyone knew New Orleans was one of the most haunted cities in the world. Maybe people should just leave it to the ghosts and the swamp and the gators and the voodoo. Laila let herself into the house, passing silently between the massive porch columns that stood like sentinels overlooking the street. Their yard was fenced and shrouded by old growth: magnolia trees, some scrubby pines, and wisteria draped over what the Spanish moss didn't already cover. They didn't have close neighbors since they also owned the empty lots directly behind them, but they liked the privacy the overgrowth afforded. She shouted a hi to her mother, who was doing something in the front parlor, and passed by the room that housed their small shrine to Anubis without going in. She had nothing to offer the jackal god anyway. After a quick shower, Laila pulled on a clean pair of jeans and a t-shirt. The jeans puddled around her feet—she found that if she wanted something that fit her curves, she’d have to hack

off several inches of fabric to work with her height. Master Toshi had once told her that she was built for momentum, not speed and he wasn’t wrong. She was short, but curvy with lean, compact muscles that came with her skill in the martial arts. He said he could build her speed; power she already had in abundance. She flopped on her bed, content to lay there and let her mind drift. Her room was painted a dusty gray-blue but didn’t have a lot to show about the person that inhabited it. There were a few black and white photographs on the wall: one of a raised tomb in Lafayette Cemetery, another of grainy, giant cypress trunks rising up out of the murky wet of the bayou, and one of the crescent moon, hanging in the air like a blade while clouds scudded across the dark face of night. Otherwise, it was spartan, containing her bed, a large dresser made of dark wood, a matching nightstand, and a slim desk and chair that held a few books and her laptop. The afternoon was fading into evening, but the air was still heavy and hot, like a wet woolen blanket. Laila propped herself up on an elbow and looked out the window, watching for her father’s car. She’d taken a lot of teasing in high school for her father’s profession—a mortician —but it hadn’t bothered her much. If they’d known what she and her family really did, they’d be a lot less likely to make jokes. And probably a lot more dead. Laila watched his silver car pull past the house, heading toward the back alley that functioned as a driveway that would lead to the garage at the back of their property. She knew the nightly routine: he would strip off the clothes he wore, depositing them in the mudroom that housed the washer and dryer, before going upstairs to wash the smell of embalming liquids and dead flesh from him. It never really left him, having permeated his scent long ago, but Laila didn’t mind. He always just smelled like home to her. Then he would come down and join them for dinner before going to meditate in the Anubis room for a half hour or so. After that, it was the picture of a typical American family--watching sitcoms on the television, chatting about the day, reading papers or magazines, until it was time to turn in for the evening. At which point, one or all would slink out into the night. Their city excursions were great exercises in not being seen and navigating urban areas while in animal form. They were werejackals, and part of a select group known as the Keepers, in honor of Anubis, the Keeper of Divine Order himself. There were always skills to be honed, new talents to master, and just because they lived in a half-sunken city rather than in the sands of the Egyptian desert didn’t mean they didn’t take their calling seriously.

The Keepers had been around since the very first pharaohs began to reign in Egypt. Wild desert dogs and jackals often haunted the edges of the desert, especially near cemeteries where the dead were buried. Legend had it that the ancient Egyptians began to build pyramids to preserve the bodies of the dead and protect them from the desecration of being eaten. Not that werejackals were scavengers, even in the most desperate of times, but the fear of the dark places, of the fringes, suited them and they cultivated it in people. But back then, if someone was brave, reckless, or desperate enough, they could go to the fringes of the desert and wait to be approached by a werejackal and present their case. People had no way of knowing if the plea was accepted until they saw the actual result. And then those petitioners had a price to pay. As Anubis rose to prominence within the Egyptian pantheon, so too did the Keepers. Anubis, the jackal headed god associated with funerary ritual and death, was also known as the Egyptian Lord of Order. He weighed the hearts of the supplicant dead before him against Ma'at —Truth, as symbolized by a feather. The heart was weighed against the feather, and if it was not weighed down with sin, the deceased was allowed to continue along the path to the afterlife. Thoth recorded the results; if the heart was judged unworthy, it was thrown to Ammit to be eaten. Anubis guarded the balance. As did the Keepers. As time passed, they became more organized. A secret society formed: The Keepers of Divine Order, named after Anubis himself. Only werejackals could be Keepers, though not all werejackals were. They believed themselves closest to the jackal god out of all of the werefolk; as such, they felt only they were suited to align themselves with him. The Keepers believed that, like Anubis, they were responsible for balancing the scales of society, especially werecreature society. For weres, this balance was especially important. If one group became too powerful or too complacent, the risk of discovery was huge. It wouldn't do to have normal humans find out that werefolk existed. Humanity feared what they did not understand—that was a truism as old as man—and normal people vastly outnumbered werecreatures. If they decided to exterminate were-kind, the humans could do it through sheer numbers alone. The Keepers made sure that this never happened. They performed a necessary function, removing dangerous factions before they could threaten the safety of the whole. They were the surgeons of society, cutting away the bad parts so that the main body remained in good health.

Very few outside of the Order understood its calling. And so the Keepers were called other things too—less accurate and more insulting. The Keepers were not trusted by other weres or humans who had reason to employ them. Rumors and misinformation was rife about them, some of it spread by the Keepers themselves to mislead and breed fear. Most who knew of them called them assassins, murderers, guns for hire, or thought them mercenaries of the worst sort. They did not understand the code Keepers lived by or the tenets that they clung to. They did not understand that to usher in change, sometimes you had to get bloody; that for a new order to assert itself, the old guard must be overthrown. Throughout the ages, nicknames had come and gone, but there was one that stuck from the earliest times, the one that was most insulting--Eaters of the Dead, held over from those first days in Egypt. Those who were Keepers kept their identities jealously guarded. It was safer. Keepers were not trusted or tolerated, except when work needed to be done and then they were contacted through circuitous means. But it was the Keepers who decided what job they would take and what the outcome would be. They were more than just the killers that everyone thought they were. Laila knew the history of the Keepers as well as she knew her own. In a way, it was her own. Her family had been part of the Keepers for generations. They did the dirty work of society, the tough jobs that no one wanted to take on. Few knew how to get in touch with them, how to hire them, but those who did guarded the secret jealously. It was a great honor to be one of the Keepers of Order, to balance the scales of the world, to be a part of a greater whole. She was one, or as close as she could get without completing her first assignment. Her older brother was already a full member. Her father was grooming them both to take his place in the order of things. She prayed nightly to the jackal god that she was worthy. There was a soft knock at her door that surprised her. "Come in," she called, swinging her legs off the bed. Her mother stuck her head inside. She was a small woman, with ash blonde hair and dark eyes and a full round face that smiled often. "Your father is waiting for you downstairs. He’s got a surprise for you." At Laila's raised eyebrows, she shrugged. "You'll only know if you go down and talk to him." Laila took off, anxious at this break from routine. She took the stairs two at a time, nearly tripping over her too-long jeans, skidding to a halt only when she saw her father kneeling at the small table in front of the black statue of Anubis in the temple room. He glanced at her,

indicating with his eyes that she should wait for him in the dining room, which was already set for dinner. She entered the room and saw that four places were set for dinner, not their usual three. Behind her, a familiar voice said, “Hey pest.” “MEBIS!” Laila squealed, a sound pitched so high that only bats probably heard it, and flung herself at him. He lifted her up in a bear hug, his lean frame deceptively strong. Her brother was the tallest in their family which wasn’t saying much since he crested at five foot ten. He had their father’s dark hair and their mother’s dark eyes. The angles of his face were all their father’s though, and they all had the same scar, gifted in the same way. Mebis swung her around before putting her back on her feet, almost knocking over the sideboard. Their mother stuck her head in and clucked, “Try not to destroy the dining room, if you please, children.” “Sorry, Mom!” Mebis turned back to her with a grin. “Still getting me in trouble, I see.” “Puh-lease,” Laila responded, rolling her eyes. “Like they would ever be mad at you, golden boy.” She took a critical look at him. He had a neat goatee, something he had never sported before. “What’s with the beard? Trying to look all butch for the ladies?” “I think he looks rather handsome,” their mother said, carrying a platter of pot roast and potatoes from the kitchen. Laila stuck her tongue out at Mebis after mom had passed. He gave her punch in the arm. “Sit down, you two.” They did as they were bid, sitting across from each other and leaving the seats at the head of the table for their parents. Laila made sure her chair was far enough away from her brother’s so he couldn’t kick her under the table. He may be four years older than she was, but they still regressed back to impish children when they got together. She could hear her mother bustling in the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on the rest of dinner. In a few minutes, Dad joined them. He was a thin man of middling height and average features. There was nothing particularly striking about him. He had dark brown hair, going grey in large patches, giving him an almost piebald look, and muddy hazel eyes. Laila had the same eyes, although hers possessed more green than brown. A very faint scar ran down the left side of his face, starting above his brow bone and running vertically down his cheek. Laila and Mebis sported similar scars, although hers was more noticeable since it was relatively recent. When he smiled, which he did often, the scar crinkled.

“It sounded like you enjoyed your surprise,” he said as he seated himself. Looking at her father now, it was hard to believe he was once one of the deadliest men within the Keepers. Mebis had told her how well regarded their father was once he himself had been initiated. Their father was not a field operative any longer, retiring instead to a quieter life as a mortician. Mebis had succeeded him. If Laila passed her initiation, it would just be another feather in her father's already bristling cap. “It’s great!” Laila waited while her mother set down the remaining platters of vegetables and bread and salad. “But I didn’t think you’d be back until fall.” “Plans change, pest.” Mebis speared slices of meat and loaded them onto his plate. “I got some time off between assignments, so I figured I’d come home and see the family. Can’t I miss you guys?” “As if,” she said, but she was happy to have him around, if only for a little while. She snagged herself a roll, but left the biggest one for Mebis as a gesture of welcome. When they were younger, they’d always fought over who got the biggest piece of anything. Well, it was mostly her, shrieking about the unfairness of it all. At times it had her mother getting out a ruler to show that pieces of pie were all cut uniformly. The dinner continued, the way their dinners always did when Mebis was with them. He recounted what adventures he could, they talked about Laila’s progress with school and training, they praised mom’s food. Laila took seconds, mopping up the gravy with one of her mother's homemade buttermilk biscuits. She zoned out during a conversation Mebis and her father were having about someplace in Asia where they’d both visited. She let the conversation wash over her like a wave and thought about Master Toshi and her sparring, going over it in her head to see where she could have struck to end the fight quicker. The sound of plates being gathered up jolted her out of her introspection. She rose to help with the dishes, as did Mebis. They carried everything from the table and then, as usual, their mother shooed them out of the kitchen while she cleaned. The kitchen was sacrosanct; their mother did not like other people in there while she was working, either cooking or cleaning. She said it wasn’t big enough for helpers, but Mebis and Laila always thought it was because the kitchen was the only place she could get some peace and quiet with regularity. “You want to head out to the bayou?” Mebis asked as they were leaving the kitchen. “Tonight?”

“Sure. For a run. I haven’t just run in ages.” Laila shrugged. It wasn’t a night with a full moon, when their jackal side would be screaming to be let loose, but it would be a beautiful night to go regardless. And it had been a while since she’d gotten to run out in the swamps; her father didn’t let her go that far afield on her own and he didn’t often have the time to go out with her. In jackal form she knew she could pass for a large dog, possibly a wolf hybrid of some kind. There were a number of dog packs that still roamed New Orleans even this long after Katrina, and although the animal control specialists were rounding them up, they were doing so slowly. She could ghost through the alleys and yards, moving like a shadow, always alert. It was always a risk to change within the city, but her father felt it was worth it, and at times it was the only option available. It trained them to caution and to be adaptable. One never knew where a job would take them, and urban settings were far more likely these days than the wide natural spaces of desert or forest. Rather than moving to the country or the swamp, her father had kept them here and taught them well. But to really be able to cut loose and run? No question about it. “Yes,” she answered, a huge grin on her face. “But I’ve got to meditate first.” “We’ve got a couple of hours before dark anyway. Come get me when you’re done.” He headed upstairs to the room that was always kept ready for him. Her father was already waiting in the small room that housed the temple. She lit one of the large candles on the wrought iron circle in the corner of the room while her father lit the funerary herbs. The candle in front of the Anubis statue always burned and it was before this that they knelt comfortably. She gazed at the black statue. Laila often thought of the speculation and whispered rumors that said Anubis himself may not have been a god at all, but rather a werejackal who'd managed to fool everyone into believing he was one. If that was true, it was a good trick. She thought it just as likely as anything else, especially when talking about something that originated so many centuries ago. She emptied her mind, focusing only on the dancing flame of the candle as it pulsed and flickered in an unknown wind. This was the only time that she found she could sit still. She had a hard time being quiet, but during meditation she was able to shut down her fidgets and open her mind. Laila kept her walls up normally--it was how she had been raised after all. She’d been

reared to show no weakness, to shore up her defenses, but here she could lower her shields and let her consciousness wander. Anubis shimmered behind the golden light, until he became nothing but a black shape behind the pinpoint of flame. Her limbs grew heavy but her head remained clear and steady. Images floated through her mind. It was always like this for her and she gave herself up to it, a byproduct of the meditation. The images came slowly, some from memory, some she thought purely from her imagination. She was thirteen and her father was in the mortuary, wearing the heavy mask of Anubis as he proceeded with the embalming and mummification of an Anubis Guard, killed in battle. Laila watched from the doorway in awe as her father drew out the organs, placing them in the custom made canopic jars that would also be interred in the coffin with the body. That image faded into one of her in training, arms straining, sweat pouring from her as she struggled to complete one more push up. Then another image, this one of Mebis, winking at her as he slipped out into the humid bayou to change into his jackal shape. Finally, a moonless night, with a large house on the water, a house she didn't recognize. And then a feeling, one of being watched, and suddenly she was back in her body, staring at the candle. Her father was still meditating, and would likely continue for a while longer. But Laila found that whatever headspace she was in before refused to return. The candle stayed a candle, the herbs were making her nose itch now, and her knees ached from kneeling on the hardwood, even with the pillow beneath them. There would be no recapturing her trance state now. Time to go. She got up quietly, careful not to disturb her father's own meditation. She took this rare moment to watch him when he was unaware of her. He was utterly unthreatening, but she knew the power that was within him. She had watched him fight Master Toshi to a standstill, but he had never sparred with either her or her brother. He had said that he preferred to be their parent, rather than their trainer, and he remained true to his word. He remained someone they could go to when they needed to talk or gripe. He pushed them to be their best, but gave them the space to set their own pace. Idly, Laila traced the scar on her cheek. Even when he had given her the scar, cutting into her flesh with an ancient knife made of bronze, he had been oddly gentle. It had been a family ritual, one of their few high rituals, performed when the moon was at its fullest. She had been fourteen and her father had taken her into the temple room and explained the role of the Keepers

of Order, of their place in the cosmic balance. Of how lucky they were and how blessed. But also how they had been tasked with a great responsibility, to weigh, and to judge, and to carry out sentence. That they had been marked. They were chosen. He had drawn the knife down her face, whispering that she should close her eye. It was painful, more than she had been expecting, but also welcome. She felt a deeper sense of belonging, of knowing her place in the world. The blood spilled over her eye, dimming her vision, making the world swim and she felt sick. Sick but happy. He'd bound her wound in pristine white cloth and she'd gone upstairs to rest with the feeling that her entire world had changed. Laila went up the stairs to Mebis’ room. His door was open and he was leafing through a book as he lay on the bed. “Ready?” Mebis slid off the bed and grabbed a set of keys off the dresser. “We’ll take your car,” he said. The car used to be his. “I’m driving.” “That’s just so you get to pick the music,” Laila replied, tripping down the stairs after him. Laila waved to her mom, signaling that they were going out. She was keyed up, antsy, and knew she would be unable to sit still tonight. She was glad Mebis had suggested the run; Master Toshi’s remedy for her was always physical exertion. A true bayou run was way better than two hundred pushups. They drove in silence for most of the way, Laila content just to sit beside her brother while he fiddled with the radio dial. He knew the way; they’d been coming here for years. The chance of being discovered by a night hunter was low and all they had to worry about was steering clear of the alligators. Dusk was deepening into night as they entered the bayou, the old Toyota still reliable after all its years of service. Mebis pulled them off the main road and followed a side road, more like a track, until they were deep enough in to not attract notice. She stepped out into the humid night air, the sounds of crickets and night insects a soothing racket to her sensitive ears. It was full dark and the moon was waning from full, still shedding a great deal of light on the swamp. The night jasmine was in bloom and the heady scent of it purpled the air, competing with the scent of water and that scent you only got with wet vegetation. She sat down on the back bumper and slipped out of her shoes and clothes.

Laila triggered the transformation, whining a little in the back of her throat in anticipation. Her bones began to shift as her skeleton rearranged itself, the muscles and tendons reshaping to work with her new form. The pain was a liquid thing, mingling with a kind of weird pleasure, like being able to finally scratch an itch that had eluded you. It was over quickly and instead of girl in her place sat a golden jackal. She scented the air, giving herself a moment to align her new senses. It was a little like an assault until she got used to it. Once she was comfortable, she walked over to Mebis, also a golden jackal, though slightly larger than her. They most closely resembled wolves, although they were significantly smaller, even though as weres they packed more weight and size than normal golden jackals. Laila had never met another were before, but Mebis had and she trusted his descriptions. Werejackals weren’t built for fighting in this form; they didn’t carry enough size to do much damage and their jaws weren’t as powerful as a wolf’s or a cat’s. They preferred to do their fighting as humans, if it came to it. Mebis snuffed at her and loped down the track, deeper into the bayou. Once they were far enough away from the car, he took off, leaving her to chase him. She pounded after him, feet falling lightly on the soil. She could hear the sounds of small animals deeper in the trees and thought about veering off to do a little hunting, but she wasn’t all that tempted. Hunting didn’t interest her right now; she was well fed and had no need to just kill for killing’s sake, in either form. Her brother left the trail and Laila galloped after, dodging around tree trunks and splashing through wet ground. Mebis moved slower here and Laila made her move, nipping his flank as she dodged past him. He snarled at her playfully, baring fangs—golden jackals were the only breed that could—and gave chase. They flitted around trees and across game tracks, splashing lightly through puddles, but careful to avoid coming too close to the shoreline and becoming a gator’s midnight snack. They ran on, sometimes Mebis gaining the lead, sometimes Laila, but never really losing sight of each other. Laila had forgotten how much she missed this. With Mebis gone now, she didn’t have anyone to do were stuff with. She’d just had her first change right before he left. It was nice to have a true partner, even if it was only for a short time. She doubted Mebis would get to stay long. Keeper business always pulled him away.

Finally Mebis stopped and sat down. He let loose with a howl, and Laila gladly joined in, adding her voice to his. After a few minutes of vocalization, he stood back up. He jerked his head back the way they had come and began walking. She followed and they walked back to the car. The moon was high in the sky by this point, shining like a freshly minted coin. Laila transformed again, back to human, shaking out her arms and legs. She was tired to the bone, ready for sleep now. After the workout and the run, she knew she’d fall asleep quickly and not remember any dreams she might have. Another perk of hard work: deep sleep. When she had finished pulling on her clothes, she said, “Master Toshi said I should spar with you when you were in town next. You up for it?” She wondered if her master had been in on the surprise of Mebis’ visit. Mebis walked over, pulling on his shirt. She caught a glimpse of a few extra scars on his torso before fabric covered it. “Sure thing, pest. Any time you’re ready.” “Tomorrow?” She tried not to sound too eager. To spar with her brother, himself a full Keeper, would be truly awesome. And she could show Master Toshi what she could do against someone that she didn’t have to worry about breaking who wasn’t a five hundred year old fox spirit. He nodded. “Don’t worry, I’ll try to remember and go easy on you.” “I’m going to kick your ass extra hard just for saying that.” Her brother laughed and Laila realized how much she'd missed it. “Bring it on, baby sister. Bring it on.”

Chapter Five Samara sat at the kitchen table, lost in thought. She'd received a call from one of her operatives in Miami. He'd had some interesting news to report. She'd set him to romancing one of the help at Sekhmet's house in the hopes that it would net her some useful information about Sek's dealings, and her plan had proven to be rather successful. The leader of the wereleopards had been increasingly erratic of late. Samara had known Sekhmet had been recovering for several months from wounds sustained when he had gone out of town, but she'd never been able to ferret out why he had left and whom he had fought. The one thing about leopards that she had to give them some credit for—they knew how to keep their secrets. It was as frustrating as much as it was admirable. She got up from the table, pulling her auburn hair up in a heap on her head. She went to lower the thermostat on the rattling window unit, fanning the back of her neck as she did so. The summer was only just beginning and it was almost unbearable in the house. Werehyenas didn't mind the heat, but Samara was particular. She hated feeling sticky. She left the kitchen and headed into the living room, where the fans and drawn shades brought a bit more relief. Samara turned her thoughts back to Sek and his clan of wereleopards. Sekhmet was proving a difficult rival to manage; she'd had to draw most of her people back from Miami because he was absolutely brutal when he found an interloper. She was tired of getting pieces of her people back in boxes. But the warnings wouldn't stop her from going after Miami. Her pack needed a new territory —a bigger and better one. Samara was tired of living on the fringes of cities, forced to settle for the country towns and less urbane spaces. She deserved something better. Her pack had grown beyond its borders already and she had added more land to her demesne by taking it, not that there was another were pack for hundreds of miles. It was just her and Sek down here. The wereleopards had been in the area for far longer than her werehyenas. Samara and her pack were a relatively recent addition to south Florida. She and a small group had moved here twenty years ago. They'd been content in this backwater county for a number of years, but their

numbers began to grow rapidly. They had reached the maximum capacity for the area relatively quickly after that and Samara, as pack leader, had begun enlarging their territory. But all the while, Miami lay glittering in the distance. And Samara was fascinated by it. The leopards had been there for generations and they seemed to run it well. But Samara wanted it. And what she wanted, she usually got, and quite easily too. It was a byproduct of being beautiful and frightening. Very few, human or werebeast, said no to her. The cats, however, were one of those few. They were not going to just hand her their territory willingly. She'd been matching wits with Darius, Sek's father and the former clan leader, for years before Sekhmet took over the clan. Now Sekhmet ran it with far more of an iron hand than his father had. But he was unstable and growing more so by the day. She'd waited this long, a few more weeks wouldn't matter. If luck was with her, perhaps the cats would self-destruct and she could just waltz in and take what should be hers. Her daughter, Teresa, barreled through the door, slamming it behind her. Samara snarled at the girl for the loud interruption. "Where have you been?" "Out with the girls." Samara raised a sculpted brow. Teresa had her own mini-pack that followed her around— the next generation of werehyena females. It bore watching. Her daughter was strong and cunning, as was expected, but Samara was in no hurry to be ousted. Teresa was strong, true, but not strong enough to take her mother. Not yet. Samara enjoyed reminding her of that fact. "Where's your brother?" She preferred not to use her son's name or think about him at all. He was a continual disappointment. Much like his father. Teresa smirked. "Bleeding outside." Samara clucked, but grinned. "Did you play a bit too rough again?" Play was putting it nicely. Teresa was eighteen and Rafe was sixteen—when they played it ended in blood and scars. Usually for him. Teresa shrugged then wandered out of the room. She was probably going to go sleep most of the day in her bedroom. She'd just graduated and had the rest of her summer free to figure out what she planned to do with her life. Samara didn't much care what Teresa did, although she doubted it would be anything beyond hang out with friends and go wherever Samara sent her. Her daughter was not terribly motivated outside of pack business.

Samara rubbed her temples, trying not to scowl; it would give her unattractive frown lines. She was proud of her beauty and she wanted to hang onto it for as long as possible. It was another way she kept her power within the pack. Teresa was lovely—all werehyenas were blessed with breathtaking good looks—but she hadn't grown into her beauty like Samara had. Teresa still had the tendency to rely on brute force, not understanding the advantages that could be had by using her attractiveness. She'd learn eventually, or she wouldn't, but it wasn't Samara's problem. She tried to think about Miami again, but was unable to focus. She couldn't decide what her next move would be. Her instinct told her to press Sek, to keep sending in raiding parties, to accelerate her timeline. The pack's numbers had swelled; they could afford the losses. They could win a war of attrition. The cats were limited in number. She could fight them to their extinction. Her human head argued for patience. If she waited, she may be able to gain Miami and keep the strength of her pack intact. There was no point in decimating her clan only to be wiped out once she was actually in possession of Miami. And there were the jaguars to consider. Sek's business partners could decide to help him maintain his hold on the territory to avoid an interruption to their affairs. Samara had no idea how much power they could bring to bear. It would be safer to wait until the jaguars could be brought to her side or discounted completely. But she disliked waiting. Waiting was for other people. It made her deeply unhappy. The front door opened again, letting her son in. Rafe stumbled, his head back and his hand over his nose. Blood leaked out of his hand. Samara's blue eyes narrowed. Idiot. He would get blood on the floor or the rug and it would be a bitch to clean. "Don't drip." Her voice was hard, lacking maternal concern. She smiled when her son flinched. He continued down the hallway and eventually she heard the faucet in the bathroom turn on. Why the boy even continued to try and fight Teresa was anyone's guess. Samara knew her son wasn't stupid, but she wondered if he had some kind of inability to learn. Didn't someone say insanity was doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result? Teresa, being female, was taller and much stronger than he was, a fact that was never going to change so long as he lived in Samara's house. Samara looked down at the floor and saw a drop of blood on the cracked tile near the door. She felt a smile prick up the corners of her mouth and calmly got up from the couch. Her son

was still splashing in the bathroom faucet, sluicing the blood off his face. He had a bruise darkening his sharp cheekbone and his nose was red and puffy. She looked at her son, eyes tracing the fine bones of his face, the triple scars that ran down the right side of it. He felt her presence in the doorway; he was always good at being aware of where danger lurked. He was several inches shorter than her own six feet and he had to lift his eyes to meet her own. "Mom?" His voice was tentative. Her son knew she didn't come to check on him when he was hurt. This had to be new for him. She grabbed him by his shaggy black hair and dragged him out of the bathroom. He tripped over his feet, and she heard his breath catch painfully as she continued to yank him along, but she knew he didn't dare fight against her. Samara had made sure to teach all the young males, her son most especially, that she was not to be defied. He stumbled along behind her, his head bent at a painful angle, as she pulled him over to the tile. Samara threw him down on the floor. He caught himself on hands and knees. She pressed a hand down on the back of his head, forcing his face close to the floor. She made sure the spot of blood was right under his nose. She could feel him fighting against the pressure she was putting on his head and shoved down harder, grinding the side of his face into the tile. "Clean. It. Up." She removed her hand. "Yes," he whispered, face still pressed to the floor. Samara reared back, driving her foot into his ribs. She was barefoot, but she put most of her considerable strength behind the kick. His breath blew out of him in a rush. His whole body bowed up against the force of it and then he began to curl around the pain in his side. "What was that?" "Yes, ma'am." Samara nodded. You could never be too polite—it was an important trait for the boy to learn. She left her son to clean up his mess.

Chapter Six Finn McNeil was epically bored. His date, Shannon, was chatting about something related to pop music, but Finn was only half listening. His eyes kept straying to the door, and he began to make up scenarios in his head that involved strategic air lifts from the roof in an effort to cut short the date. He had to choke back a laugh--he felt like a wolf caught in a trap that would have to gnaw off its own foot to gain its freedom. He appreciated the humor of it. He couldn't figure out what the problem was. Shannon was great looking, had a nice body, and was into him. He didn't really have a lot of criteria for an acceptable date. She met them all. And he was sitting here trying to figure out how to ditch her. It had been a running joke in the family that if it was a Thursday, Finn was falling in love with someone new. It never bothered him because it was true--Finn liked to keep things fun and light, and as soon as they got too complicated, he was out of there. He felt no urge to be tied down like his brother, Burke, did. He wanted to date around, keep his options open. Wolves mated for life, or so his father said. Finn just wanted to live a little more before he had to give up on fun permanently. He wasn't down on marriage, per se. He had lots of good ones as models. His parents, his cousin Cormac's parents, Bran and Anita, Mitch and Lynette, various friends of their family all had been married for decades and were just as in love with their partners today as the day they’d met. He knew he could have that too, one day. Burke seemed to have found it with Lindsay, and Cormac looked to be well on his way to it with Kess. Finn just wasn't sure if he wanted it for himself. He tuned back in to Shannon, trying to look at least moderately interested. She hadn't seemed to notice his brief zone out, which went against everything he knew about women. They noticed everything. To a ridiculous extent. And they'd talk about it and rehash it and analyze it until you were both so absolutely sick of it that you'd rather set yourself on fire than have to go through all of that again. She had moved on to talking about one of her freshman survey courses that had given her problems. He made the appropriate noises at the right times to keep the conversation going and let his mind wander again.

He had finished paying for dinner and by that point he knew he was going to have to manufacture some excuse to get out of the movie. Shannon was a nice girl, but he wasn't feeling it tonight. Finn explained that he had started to feel sick during dinner and he'd have to cut their date short to get some rest. Shannon felt his head, murmuring that he did indeed feel warm, and happily accepted his apologies as he walked her to her door. A light kiss on the cheek and he was free. He called his brother and found out that they were hanging out at Cormac's place, watching movies and just relaxing. He hopped in his Jeep and drove over, still bothered by his disinterest in Shannon. It didn't make sense to him, but he chalked it up to chemistry. Sometimes you had it with people and sometimes you didn't. He felt a little better about it by the time he turned into the gravel drive that led up to Cormac's small cabin on the back side of his parent's sprawling property. His brother and Cormac's Jeeps were there, as was Kess' compact car. He pulled in next to hers and jogged over to the door. The early summer night was warm with a light breeze. The sun had recently set, but its warmth lingered. He could hear voices and laughter spilling out from the open windows of the cabin. He knocked, then went in without waiting for an invitation. "Finn!" His name was shouted from various corners of the room. Pizza boxes lay spread out on the floor, the pizzas inside long since consumed. Lindsay and Burke were sprawled on the couch, while Kess sat on the floor with her back against the bottom of the armchair. Cormac came out from the kitchen, holding a couple of cups. The television was paused on something blowing up spectacularly. "Hey guys," Finn greeted and flopped down on a clear spot on the floor. "You're free kinda early," Burke noted, waggling his eyebrows at him. "Wasn't feeling it." He shrugged, hoping they'd let this drop. He should have known how unlikely that would be with this crowd. Burke and Lindsay shared a look. "Okay, what?" Finn asked, annoyed. "Nothing," his brother said, then cut another look over at his girlfriend. "Dude!" Finn took the cup of soda that Cormac offered him. "What is with the looks?" Burke shrugged. He was older by two years and seemed to always have all the answers. Finn figured it came from being the eldest in the family. "Just seems odd you wouldn't hit it off. She's your usual type."

Finn knew that everyone thought he was the playboy of the family—his brother had referred to him as a manwhore once, which made Finn inordinately proud. He couldn’t help it. He liked girls, lots of them, and didn’t wait for a deeper emotional connection to develop. He was about having fun, and sex was fun. His girlfriends were all willing participants and he never promised them anything even resembling forever. A few might have gotten their feelings hurt, but he liked to think that they all had a good time and went their separate ways happier for having known each other. And if they weren’t, well, at least he didn’t have to hear about it. “My usual type?” Lindsay, Burke’s girlfriend of two plus years spoke up. “Pretty and vapid.” She smiled to take a little of the sting out of it. “There’s nothing wrong with my standards,” Finn replied, mock affronted. “Besides, all the good ladies are taken.” He grinned charmingly, first at Lindsay and then at Kess. “Lech,” Kess laughed, lobbing a throw pillow at him. He caught it easily and put it behind his head. He readily admitted that he'd thought about dating Kess when he'd first seen her waiting tables at his dad's restaurant. Cormac got to her first though. Finn didn't begrudge his cousin her one bit, especially not after Kess' crazy-ass brother had come up here looking for her. Mac and Kess had gotten the worst of Sekhmet's ire—he'd torn Mac up with a silver knife and attacked and kidnapped Kess—until Kess had proven in no uncertain terms that she was going exactly nowhere with him. Finn had witnessed the showdown between brother and sister and was grateful not to have been more involved than he was. He didn't like dealing with a lot of baggage and Kess came with a matched set of luggage fit for a transatlantic cruise. Still, Kess was hot and Finn thought she was way above of Mac's pay grade. “And good ladies—as you call them—wouldn’t have anything to do with you,” Lindsay countered. “Your reputation precedes you.” “I’m famous!” “Infamous, more like,” Mac offered. “I think there’s a warning in the freshman handbook about you.” He looked at Kess who was starting classes in the fall. “I’ll let you know,” she answered, settling against him once he returned to his seat.

“Mark my words,” Lindsay said, sitting up and pointing a finger at Finn. “One day—and it will be soon—you are going to get a wicked taste of your own medicine. And then you’ll change your ways. ” “Not likely,” Finn answered. “Burke here is the good son, not me.” He tried to keep his tone light, but a little bitterness must have crept into his voice because the teasing subsided and the movie was turned back on. Finn felt frustrated for a minute. He hadn’t meant to let an edge slip into his voice, but sometimes he just couldn’t help it. His brother was the perfect son: great grades, bright future, nice girlfriend. He was probably going to succeed their father, Griff, as the pack Beta the way things were looking. Finn still had a way to go. His grades were average at best, he had no idea what he wanted to do with his life, and he obviously had no interest in settling down. Even though he knew Griff loved both of them equally and didn’t compare them, Finn couldn’t help but feel like he always came up short next to Burke. Since his brother had the good son thing wrapped up, Finn became the goof-off. It wasn’t that he didn’t love his brother—he’d kill or die for him--it was more that he thought had to define himself differently to get a little space. He settled in to watch the movie, trying not to notice the pairs around him. Kess and Cormac were less touchy-feely than Burke and Lindsay, content to sit together quietly. He thought it might have something to do with Kess being a wereleopard. Cormac had mentioned in passing that he didn’t think she came from a very demonstrative clan. Lindsay, on the other hand, was very affectionate with his brother, always in close physical proximity and always touching him, but she was strictly full on human. That’s one of the reasons Finn always felt the need to have a steady girlfriend—werewolves liked physical touch. He tried to put all thoughts of girls and family out of his head. The movie had lots of explosions going for it and relatively little plot, making it easy to follow even when your mind was taken with other things. Soon Finn was too engrossed in cars blowing up to care about much of anything else.

Chapter Seven Mebis' palm crashed into her solar plexus, all of his weight behind it. Laila went flying and didn't stop until she hit the wall behind her, a good ten feet back. Her head cracked against it and she blinked rapidly to chase the darkness from her vision. Mebis waited for her in the center of the studio, calm and steady. His stance was strong; it looked like he'd taken root in the studio's floor. It took Laila a few moments to recover her breath. Mebis had gotten so much better since the last time she sparred with him, and he wasn't holding back like he usually did. She pushed herself up from the floor slowly. He'd been handing her her ass all afternoon under Master Toshi's watchful eye. She slowly walked back to face Mebis, watching for any sign of movement. "You see how calm he remains, Laila?" Master Toshi spoke from his place near the doorway. "He is the master of his emotions--nothing clouds his thinking. That is self-control and it is what you need to master." She nodded once, not taking her eyes off her brother. Master Toshi's lessons were confusing the crap out of her. One day he was telling her one thing, the next the exact opposite, or so it seemed to her. And fighting Mebis wasn't showing her anything except how much better her brother was than her and it was beginning to make her mad. To be honest, she wasn't a fan of self-control. It didn't look good on her. She waited for Mebis to strike, but he just stood there, eyes noting every shift in her stance and every muscle twitch. Suddenly, his hands flashed out and Laila slapped her own against them, blocking his strikes. He continued pressing forward, putting her on the defensive. He was fast, but so was she, so they were evenly matched. He tried for another palm strike, but she spun away, putting herself off to the side. He followed, his movements flowing like water. She knew hers weren't that smooth--she tended to go for more powerful strikes, choppy and harsh. Mebis continued his onslaught, all arms, his feet never leaving the ground.

Break his stance--the thought flashed across her mind. Duh. If she could get him off balance, she might be able to make this fight a bit more even. That would be difficult; he looked like a damn tree out there. She was going to have to make an opportunity. See, sometimes she did listen to Master Toshi. He slid forward, the edge of his hand aiming for her throat, and she threw her torso backwards. She kept on going, flipping backwards on her hands so that she landed back up on her feet with a yard or so between them. Mebis came forward again, all liquid grace, but this time instead of moving away, Laila moved forward and dropped, spinning both legs out towards his, kicking them out from under him and propelling herself back to her feet with the momentum. Mebis crashed on his ass. Laila wanted to shout her triumph--it was the first time she'd had him on the defensive in the last hour of their sparring--but she needed to save her breath. Also, it would be totally humiliating to engage in said shouting only to have her brother smear her across the studio floor a second later. So she moved to grappling. On the floor, leverage was all that mattered. She'd been taught a number of styles, but she liked sambo for this--Mebis hadn't been really good at it when he was here last and she hoped that was still the case. She'd considered Brazilian Jiu-jitsu since it was designed specifically for a smaller person to defend against a larger opponent effectively, but Mebis was just as good as she was in that technique. Mebis wasn't going to comply with the rules though, and before Laila could get him in a hold, he had eeled away. Laila spun back up to her feet and planted herself, staring across at her brother. They were both winded, which made her feel somewhat better. It would have been embarrassing if she'd been huffing like a two pack a day smoker and he looked like he had done nothing more strenuous than make tea. Master Toshi clapped his hands. "Excellent, both of you!" The match was over. They bowed to each other, then to Toshi. Mebis turned back to her with a wide grin. "Nice work there, kid. You've picked up some new moves since we last fought." "You too," she complimented him. She was going to hurt tomorrow, but for right now, she was worn out and tired. Her muscles held that sweet ache that came from overexertion, but she'd pay for it in the morning. She staggered to the dressing room, dumping the gi in her bag and tiredly stepping back into her street clothes. Laila sat down on the short bench for a few minutes, content to just rest. But

her sharp ears caught the murmur of voices speaking in the other room, and Laila couldn't resist sidling forward to listen. Maybe Master Toshi was discussing her progress with Mebis? "...in Miami," Mebis was saying. "A situation such as this one can be very volatile." Master Toshi sounded like he always did. Somehow he managed to make every conversation, even small talk, sound like an ancient Japanese proverb. It was one of his more annoying traits. "We're aware of it. Miami becoming destabilized does no one any good." "Cats make things more complicated than they need to be," Toshi noted. "It's not just them," Mebis answered. "When do you leave?" "Soon. Still waiting for the details." "And Laila?" Laila leaned forward, ears perked so she wouldn't miss anything. Her name being mentioned in conjunction with Miami? Could that mean... "Is probably eavesdropping on us right now, if I know her at all," Mebis said, his back to her. How he could possibly know that she was listening was beyond her. It wasn't like she made it a point to eavesdrop on other people's conversations or walk around the house with a glass, hoping to stumble across closed door meetings. He could be such a jackass sometimes. Laila bit back a curse. She deliberately hung out for a bit longer in the dressing room, hoping to give the impression that she was very busy with her grooming or whatever and had no interest in what they were discussing. When she came out of the room, both men were grinning at her. It hadn't worked. She chose to ignore them, only bowing again to Toshi as she left out of politeness. She'd wait for Mebis in the car. Jerk. He came out in a few minutes and settled himself in the passenger seat. Laila was impatiently drumming her fingers on the wheel of the car while she waited for him to situate himself. With a long suffering sigh, she asked, "Can we go now, your highness?" Mebis turned a serene smile on her. "Certainly." He gestured toward the street. Laila spun out of the parking lot so fast she left marks on the pavement. They drove in silence for a several minutes, Laila determined not to ask about the conversation she was pretending she hadn't heard. Mebis hummed a little tune which made Laila grit her teeth. She was not going to give him the satisfaction of losing her temper.

"You've got some remarkable self-control there, pest," he said, breaking the silence. "I thought for sure you'd have asked me something about Miami by now." He looked out the window. "I imagine it must be killing you to keep quiet." "Hmmph." "It's remarkable really. If I were you, I'd be wondering if it might have something to do with my initiation, but you're a rock. Just staying silent like that--very impressive." Laila had to remind herself to keep her hands steady on the wheel. At the mention of initiation, she wanted to jerk the car over to the side of the road and interrogate Mebis until he told her what he was talking about. She resisted the urge to waterboard her brother and instead asked, in what she hoped was a calm, mature voice, "Oh, have you heard something about my initiation?" Mebis shot her a side-eye. "You're ridiculous." "And you're an ass. Spill it." "I'm going to Miami. And you are coming with me."

Chapter Eight Finn's dad was waiting for him when he got home from his work for Cormac’s father on the mountain. In the summers, Finn picked up work at the construction firm’s building sites. It was decent money, let him be outdoors, and he didn’t have to do a lot of thinking—just lift and haul and hold and nail. Burke had an internship this summer, so it gave the siblings more time away from each other, which Finn was fine with. Cormac showed up every now and again, but he was usually off with his father as Alaric tried to show him more of the managerial ropes. Finn was sweaty and tired and really just wanted a cool shower and a quiet place to lie down before joining everyone for a night of barhopping. He didn’t have work this weekend and he was between girlfriends, what with summer being the slow season for college freshmen, his preferred girl. He thought he might go out and have a little bachelor fun. Then he saw his father’s car in the driveway and regretfully shelved all evening plans. He dropped his keys on the scarred table by the door and walked towards the kitchen, hoping to get a drink before the inquisition started. His father’s voice calling his name from the den stopped him. He turned around and trudged into the front room of the house to talk to his dad. “Hey,” he said, letting the tired seep into his voice. Maybe his dad would make this short. “Thought you’d be at work.” “Change of plans,” Griff answered. Finn’s father was tall and broad, so that his frame took up a lot of space on the couch. Burke and Finn took after their dad, although Finn had gotten their mother’s coloring. She’d died of cancer a few years back, and Finn knew that his father had filled the void of her loss with the family restaurant. But they all still missed her; the house was strange without her presence filling it. Griff gestured to the arm chair opposite the couch. “Come on, sit down.” “Geez, Dad,” Finn protested, rebellion in every line of him. “Does it have to be right now?” He knew he came close to whining, but the last thing he wanted to do was have a talk with his father.

Griff’s face closed, the open easiness gone. “Sit down, son.” His voice was an order. Finn sat. It was ingrained in him to obey when he heard it. That tone suffered no backtalk. “Okay, I’m sitting.” Finn was incapable of stopping his mouth from popping off. He saw his father’s mouth tighten, and he subsided in silence against the back of the chair. “A girl came by the restaurant looking for you today.” Griff’s lack of expression was telling Finn that it probably hadn’t been a good scene. Finn didn’t say anything, instead picking at a thread in the upholstery. Shannon. He hadn’t called her back; hadn’t bothered to return her calls. They’d been out a couple of times, but it wasn’t anything serious. He hadn’t expected her to show up at the restaurant pestering his father. “She was worried about you. Said she hadn’t heard from you and that you had been sick the last time she’d seen you. She hoped that everything was okay.” Griff quirked a brow at Finn. “Got anything to say about it? “What did you tell her?” Griff heaved an explosive sigh. “I told her that I tried to stay out of my son’s business but that I’d ask him to call. And that, as far as I knew, you were completely healthy.” “Was she mad?” Finn suspected that she might be mad. “She wasn’t pleased, no.” Griff eyed him critically. “What the hell are you doing, boy?” “What?” Finn was defensive. “I just had a concerned young woman showing up at my restaurant looking for you today because she hadn’t heard from you. I’m not running interference for your love life! I told you before to keep it away from the business—why do you think there’s that ban on you dating the waitresses?” “Man, Dad, do we have to do this again? Now?” “If you want me to keep footing the bill for your education and housing we do. Although calling it an education at this point seems a little optimistic.” “What does that mean?” He let his anger slip into his voice. “I mean, are you bothering with one? Your grades, your major—do you even have one in mind? Or is college just another expensive way to waste time?” Finn stood up, feeling like the wing chair was going to close in on him. “What, I’ve got to have everything mapped out now for the next ten years? I’m not Burke!”

Griff stood, matching him glare for glare. “I’m not asking you to be. In case you haven’t noticed son, you’re the only one who’s doing the comparing to your brother. You’re different—I get that. But you’ve got two more years of school left and I’m not seeing a whole lot of direction. You’ve got a future to think about and a pack to consider.” “What’s there for me in the pack, huh? Burke is practically the Beta already and Cormac is going to be Alpha after Alaric. Why should I worry about the pack? They’ve got it locked.” “Why worry about the pack?” His dad sounded incredulous, and Finn tried to backpedal. He hadn’t meant for it to come out that way. “That’s not what I meant,” he began, but his father was working up his own head of steam. “What exactly did you mean?” Griff’s voice was quiet, like a beast lying in wait for something small and fuzzy to pass by so he could disembowel it. “This family and this pack have given you everything and you say why worry about it? I don’t…” Finn cut him off, talking over him. He knew it was disrespectful, but he didn’t care. “What I meant,” he said, biting each word off, “is that I’m tired of being the joke of the family. I’m not an Omega and there’s not a place in the pack for me otherwise.” “You mean there’s not a position in the pack for you otherwise. There’s always a place for useful, strong members in this pack. And as for being the joke of the family—you’ve never been that. We tease and rib you, but that’s what family is about. We do that with everyone in case you haven’t noticed.” “Everyone treats me like a clown. Burke’s the good one and I’m the screw up.” “Then maybe you stop acting like one. You want respect, then EARN it. You’re only a screw up if you want to be, son. I’ve never thought you were the bad one and I’ve never thought Burke was the good one. If you see yourself that way, that’s nobody’s problem but yours. People tend to treat you like you treat yourself.” “Easy for you to say,” Finn said, a bit of petulance creeping into his voice. Griff laughed, suddenly breaking the tension. He clapped Finn on the back. “Boy, try being Alaric’s younger brother. Burke’s got nothing on him.” Finn looked at his father, trying to see him as something other than his dad. It was easy to forget that he and Alaric were brothers first and parents second. He wondered what it was like to grow up with Uncle Alaric. He wondered if his dad had ever felt like he did sometimes. As if his

brother, by being born first, got everything and he had to make do with the leftovers. It didn’t seem to bother Griff now if he had. “Go get cleaned up, Finn. And think about what I’ve said. College is going to be over soon and you’re going to need to figure out the world and your place in it.” He gave Finn a hug, then left the room. Finn tromped up the stairs and into his bedroom, peeling off the sweaty clothes and dropping them into a pile on the floor. He turned on the shower full blast, using the hot water to soothe tired muscles. He didn’t want to go out anymore, at least not barhopping. The moon was going to be nearly full tonight, and the forecast was clear and warm. Maybe he’d call Burke and Cormac to see if they felt like a moonlit run. Or maybe tonight was the night to run on his own and mull over what his dad had said.

Chapter Nine The first thing Laila noticed about Miami was the sunlight. It was a bright, glaring thing, reflecting off of every available surface, and it made the city seem that much hotter, as if it were about to burst into flame at any moment. New Orleans had the heat and humidity in common with Miami, but the sunlight there felt less oppressive. The sun in Miami was bright and sharp as a knife’s blade. She wondered if it had something to do with being surrounded by sky and water, a sort of openness that led to vulnerability. The next thing she noticed was the way the city felt: young. New Orleans had settled into itself, like an old woman in a nursing home. The trees, the houses, the streets--all felt as if everything were caught in a slow decay. Despite the onslaught of Mardi Gras and the tourists that flocked there, it still felt like a city breathing out the labored gasps of encroaching old age. Miami felt fresh and youthful, the energy flowing swift and edgy, winnowing through the city like a fevered school of fish racing in the ocean. New Orleans’ energy eddied in dark pools, laying trapped beneath huge trees and moving in a slow current like the Mississippi itself. Laila's briefing had been, well, brief. Mebis hadn't had much to tell her. He had been assigned this particular job in Miami, and it seemed to mostly entail going to meetings and speaking with the head of the wereleopard clan that controlled this territory. Mebis had told her that he was there to strike a deal with the wereleopards for additional protection provided by the werejackals in order to keep the territory stable. Laila was posing as his assistant; she would follow him around and take notes and make fake phone calls. She knew Mebis had been authorized with the power to make any agreements he saw fit without needing to check with superiors. She was only there as backup. The clan leader they'd be meeting with was Sekhmet. He was young, early twenties, and had been in charge for maybe a year. Mebis had mentioned a sister, but she'd disappeared from Miami a few years back for reasons unknown. Their parents were dead. The clan was fairly small. The leopards had been running into problems with some werehyenas in an adjacent territory; hence the need for some extra muscle. Laila suspected Mebis might be holding

something back from her, but she put it out of her mind. Sometimes you didn't get a lot to go on and you just had to make do. Maybe this was one of those situations. She still wasn't clear on why she'd been brought along. Or why Mebis had insisted she dye her hair a brown, almost black color. All he'd told her was that it was a good cover. He hadn't done anything to his appearance besides pack some flashier clothes than what he usually wore at home. They'd gone over their backstory before they’d left and had decided to keep it simple: she'd recently come to work with him as his secretary after graduating high school while she took a year off before college. This meant they could attend any meetings that might be held together. There was safety in numbers, especially considering that they had no idea what they would be walking into. Mebis had told her the invitation to join Sekhmet for the weekend had been parlayed to the Keepers in general; the Keepers had chosen Mebis specifically. Still it was exciting to even be Keeper adjacent, so she wasn't going to bitch about it. Laila didn't remember Mebis getting to go on a test mission before his initiation, but she'd been much younger and busy with her own training to notice his business. Mebis had told her she was to watch and listen, and most importantly, learn whatever she could. Laila had no intention of wasting this opportunity. Who knows? If she did well here, maybe the Keepers would move the timeline up on her initiation. They were in a hired car, traveling through the crowded streets. The sun was dipping low in the sky, the late afternoon light still intense and she was thankful for the tinted windows that kept the worst of the glare at bay. She looked out, watching the people as they traveled closer to their destination: the headquarters of the wereleopard clan leader, Sekhmet. The neighborhoods changed, becoming more and more affluent, especially as their driver took them closer to South Beach. He even took them down Ocean Drive so they could appreciate more fully everything Miami had to offer. And there was a lot on offer, if the amount of flesh being shown was any indication. Laila shook her head. She was far from body shy, being very comfortable with nudity. Her entire immediate family were werejackals, which meant a whole lot of clothes were shed regularly. But here she felt a little bit like a prude. She wore what was practical and comfortable, easy to fight or run in and easy to get on and off in the need of a quick change. It wasn’t a matter of dressing for attention. Her father and mother had never been flashy people anyway, and in their line of work it only mattered that you look neat and pulled together, not stylish.

She figured she'd need to change her opinion on clothes if she wanted to fit in here. Everywhere she looked was flesh. She thought her bathing suit might cover more than what some of these girls were calling outfits. Laila felt ridiculously overdressed, but at the same time was glad she'd worn something conservative and comfortable for the flight. She needed to blend in and not be noticed, even if it was only for something as trivial as the amount of cleavage on display. Mebis in contrast wore crisp black pants with pointy-toed cowboy boots, and a white cotton button-down undone to the middle of his chest. He had a black jacket draped over his shoulders and flashed a devilish grin at anyone who crossed his path. He was the flash, the money; she was wallpaper. He would draw the attention and she would note everything from reactions to alliances. The car drove up the driveway and Laila got a good view of the ocean before it disappeared behind palms and lush, tropical foliage. They pulled into a large circular drive in front of a massive white house that wouldn’t have looked out of place on a Greek cliffside overlooking the sea. The driver opened the doors, removed their luggage and drove off, leaving Laila and Mebis to stare at the huge doors inset with beveled glass. After a moment, they opened to reveal two men, both tall and dark, who walked over to them with the feral grace of hunting cats. Mebis walked over to meet them, leaving Laila to follow in his wake, which she did slowly so she could get a good look at the newcomers. The one in the lead was all lean muscle and saturnine good looks: dark skin, dark hair and equally dark eyes. The way he moved was hypnotic--half stalk, half swagger, and all sex. He exuded attraction and danger in equal amounts, and Laila was wary, especially when she saw the dark circles under his eyes and the hollows under the high cheekbones. There was something off about him; something that, even if you couldn't see, you'd be able to sense. The one bringing up the rear was slightly taller and older. While the first man was in his mid twenties at most, this man was late forties, possibly even early fifties, although he still moved like a much younger man. He had dark, almost black, hair, barely dusted with silver and deeply tanned skin. His face was hard and angular and impassive to the point of stoniness. He was more heavily muscled than the other but moved lightly across the ground. He would bear watching physically; the other mentally. Of the two, Laila would lay money that the first man was the more dangerous of the two.

Mebis met them in the middle of the driveway and they exchanged handshakes. Laila caught up and waited while the introductions were made. The late afternoon sun was still hot enough to cause sweat to pool in the waistband of her pants and she hoped the niceties would be over quickly and she could get inside where there was air conditioning. "Welcome to Miami," the first man greeted. "Mebis, I presume?" At her brother's nod, the man continued. "I am Sekhmet. This is my advisor, Bomani." He indicated the older man with a tilt of the head. "I hope the trip was pleasant." "Beautiful city and we're very happy to be invited," Mebis enthused, before putting a hand on Laila's arm and drawing her forward. "This is my assistant, Laila." They had decided that they would keep the fact that they were brother and sister to themselves. Now that she was closer, Laila noticed the faint silvery scars that crossed his cheekbone on one side of his face. It did nothing to dim his attractiveness. She felt the full force of Sekhmet's gaze and had to fight to keep from glaring at him as he took her in from head to toe. It was a slow and obvious assessment, one of a man who was used to being surrounded by beauty and who was somewhat bored by it. He picked up her hand, turning it over to place a kiss in her palm, and also getting a good whiff of her scent. He looked up at her, still slightly bent over her hand and she raised her eyebrows at him, causing him to laugh. He let go of her hand and sketched a small bow at her. "Welcome to Miami, my dear Laila." He turned back to Mebis. "We'll have someone fetch your bags. In the meantime, may I show you to the guest house where you'll be staying?" Without waiting for their answer, Sekhmet turned and made his way swiftly back to the house. Two men emerged from the house as they entered, going to retrieve their luggage. Laila watched them for a moment, then scurried after the three men. Sekhmet's long stride ate up the ground and he led them through the house quickly, out the back door, and across the lawn. He didn't offer a tour of the house or grounds, nor did he look back or speak. He stopped in front of a small cottage and opened the door with a flourish. "Make yourselves at home," Sekhmet said, gesturing them in. "Your bags will arrive momentarily. I'll leave you to get settled." He smiled slyly at Laila. "I'll be happy to give you a tour of the place once the sun goes down--it's really best to rest in the heat of the day down here, but I'm sure you're used to that being from New Orleans. Unless you'd care to use the pool?" At their chorus of no's, he took his leave. "Drinks are at eight--someone will be by to fetch you."

Laila stepped into the guest house, grateful to be back in the air conditioning, and stopped. If this was the guest house, she couldn’t wait to get a look at the mansion. Sleek, low furniture abounded, all clean lines and soft fabrics. Top of the line electronics were everywhere: flat panel plasma television, stereo system, embedded surround sound, a gaming system. She gave a low whistle and moved through the modern living room to the back of the house, where she figured she'd find the bedrooms. There were two, separated by a shared bathroom. She dropped her bag beside the bed and slid out of her jacket. The house was cool and dark, the drapes drawn to keep out the hot Florida sun. Flopping on the bed, she called out to Mebis. “What now?” He appeared in the doorway to the bathroom and beckoned her in, then closed the doors. When she opened her mouth, he put a finger to her lips, then turned on the water in the shower and sink. He let it run for a minute or two then spoke. “What do you think?” “You think we’re bugged?” Mebis shrugged. “Better safe than sorry. The man’s paranoid—I wouldn’t put anything past him.” “Okay.” She sighed. “Bomani’s worth checking out. He’s the advisor; if anyone knows what’s going on besides Sekhmet, it’s him.” “And Sekhmet? What did you get off of him?” Mebis looked at her strangely. She shook her head. Sekhmet was still a mystery, not surprising since she’d only been in his presence a few minutes. “Not much yet. He’s off though, I could tell that much. Bomani was watching him a little too closely, I think. Dangerous definitely. And he doesn’t look well.” Mebis nodded, as if he had noticed the same things she had. Laila didn’t mention the feeling she got when he looked at her or at the attraction he exuded when he walked. No need to worry her brother that her head wasn’t in the game because of a pretty face. She was wary enough to recognize Sekhmet’s appeal and knew she was smart enough to stay away from him. *********** Laila was nervous. It was a new feeling for her. She wasn't usually one to shy away from new situations and she wouldn't classify herself as timid. But this cocktail party was something entirely different from her experiences so far. Mebis was mingling with the other wereleopards

with an ease she envied--was there anything he wasn't good at? She, on the other hand, tried to fight her urge to lurk in a corner. She felt entirely out of her depth here. She smoothed down the front of her simple wrap dress and tried to act natural. She was in the deep end of the pool; it was sink or swim time. She couldn't blow this, but the more she thought about it, the weirder this whole assignment seemed. Laila didn't understand why she'd been sent with Mebis; he should have been partnered with someone else, someone who was actually initiated into the Keepers. Spying and negotiations--or whatever this was--were not her strong suits yet. She was a seventeen year old girl; she could fight, sure, and hold her own in hand to hand, but this cloak and dagger, mix and mingle stuff was still beyond her. Laila catalogued the people at the party. She'd already met Bomani, who was deep in conversation with her brother. Standing with them was another wereleopard named Masud, who appeared to be Bomani's assistant or something. He was about Sekhmet's age, maybe a little older. He seemed a decent enough sort, for a werecat. Arrayed around the room were several other members of the leopard clan. Laila had already met Nyla, one of the two female wereleopards present. Laila had also been introduced to Akil and Ishaq, two other older male wereleopards. There were three other men she hadn't met yet who stared at her curiously, but made no move to approach. Laila observed that the leopards looked similar: tall, dark, and lean, with a slinking way of moving. "Laila," a deep voice greeted from off to the side. She turned her head to find Sekhmet standing near her elbow. She nodded at him. "Hello." He noticed her empty hands. "Can I get you something? I see you don't have a drink." "No, I'm good. Thanks." She looked around the room. Laila saw Mebis smile at her and she relaxed some. He'd told her to make friends with Sek, to see what he was like. She could do this. She may not know why she'd been chosen to be here or what exactly she was supposed to be doing, but talking to a good looking guy was something she could handle. He smirked at her lazily, his eyes taking in her hair and face. He looked like he should have a feather sticking out of the corner of his mouth and Laila felt a tinge of uneasiness. Her instinct told her that Sekhmet was very dangerous indeed, not the least of which because he was attractive and knew how to use it to his advantage. But so did she.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" He may have been asking her a question, but his eyes were scanning the room. Laila debated the benefits of lying, then discarded the idea. She thought she would impress him more with her honesty, and it was fairly obvious that she wasn't the type that did sweetness and light. "Not really, no. I prefer not to stand around doing nothing, no matter how pleasant the company." She gave him a smile to indicate he was the company she was referring to. His attention settled back on her. Sek's smirk widened into a true grin. "Would you care to do something more…active?" She scanned the room, noting where everyone was. "I have a job to do," she replied, indicating Mebis with a nod of her head. Her instinct that Sekhmet was trouble flared again. Sekhmet picked up a strand of her hair, winding it in his fingers. It still surprised her to see her hair black or nearly so. He leaned a bit closer to her and asked, "How old are you?" "Nineteen," she lied, giving him the age she and Mebis had agreed upon. Her eyes searched his face for signs where this conversation was going. "Ah." He played with her hair for a few more moments, his fingers sliding in and out of the strands of hair. Then he seemed to come back to himself and let her hair drop, his hand going back to his side. "I look forward to knowing you better, Laila." She felt a tingling at the base of her spine, part excitement and part fear. Knowing Sekhmet better did not spell for a long and happy life, that much she knew from the little time she'd spent in his presence. Still, there was something magnetic about him that tempted her just a little. "And I you." Her brother had told her to make friends with the man after all. He moved away to mingle with his clan and Laila went to find her brother. She waited until he had reached a stopping point in the conversation with one of the leopards she didn't know, and then touched his arm lightly. He excused himself and followed her over to the bar, where he busied himself refilling his drink. "How's it going?" Mebis' dark eyes skipped from face to face, assessing the room for possible enemies. Or targets. One day she would do the same without even realizing it. "Sekhmet is certainly coming on strong." She let a hint of distaste slip into her voice. The look Mebis gave her was one she couldn't read. It was a combination of worry, regret, and something else she couldn't identify. It passed quickly. "Find out anything useful?" He took a sip of his freshened cocktail.

Laila poured herself a glass of water. "Nothing much." Aside from the fact that he was equal parts sexy and creepy, but she wasn't going to tell her brother that. "Well, keep at it…hang on." Mebis' attention was fixed on the door and the older man walking through it. The man went straight to Sekhmet. Bomani and Masud broke off their respective conversations and joined the two men in a knot off to the side of the room. Mebis cocked his head towards the impromptu meeting and he and Laila began to move slowly towards it. She could see the dark heads all huddled together, the susurration of their whispers filling the now silent room. Her eyes found Sekhmet's back and she could see his shoulders grow tense beneath the fabric of his jacket. She looked at Mebis, who'd noticed it too. He quirked a brow and continued to inch closer to the group. "Damn her!"Sekhmet shouted, his voice erupting like a geyser into the quiet. He grabbed the man who'd just come in by the shirt front and jerked him close. "I'll slaught…" At this, Bomani grabbed the clan leader's arm urgently and said something meant for Sekhmet's ears alone. Sek took a look around the room, then let the man go. The man stumbled, his usual grace gone and Sekhmet swept out of the room. Bomani and Masud huddled together for another moment, speaking quietly, then they too followed after Sekhmet. Laila stared at the doorway they'd all exited through, chewing on her lip thoughtfully. She'd gotten a good look at Sekhmet's face before Bomani had intervened and to say that he was angry was understating it a fair bit. He’d been enraged, his face flushed an ugly red. His features had sharpened, become a little more cat-like, his eyes narrowed into furious slits. Laila almost expected him to hiss. She wondered if he had a good handle on his changes. All werecreatures could change at will, but tended to slip during moments of high emotion or stress unless a tight rein was kept on that side of themselves. If Bomani hadn't intervened, she thought Sekhmet might have just shifted in front of the entire room. She turned her attention to her brother who was also watching the path of the departed wereleopards. He looked after them thoughtfully, his mind obviously working on making sense of the scene he'd just witnessed. Finally, he looked down at her. "That was certainly interesting." His voice held a dry humor. "Oh, you think?" She looked around the room. The others assembled were milling about uncomfortably and a few were already moving to leave. "Looks like the evening's festivities are over."

"With quite the ending." Mebis nodded to a few people as they passed by on their way out, wishing them a good night. When they were relatively alone, he said, "It looks as though our host might be more than a little erratic." "We don't know what news he might have gotten," Laila reminded her brother, not wanting to jump to any conclusions that might interfere with their overall mission. Still, Sekhmet wasn't what she'd call stable, not with the behavior she'd seen. She was used to her father, who was not prone to emotional outbursts, no matter the news. "True." Her brother smiled slyly. "Let's just see what I can find out about that."

Chapter Ten Finn hated feeling like the third wheel. Worse, this time he actually was a third wheel. It was supposed to be Cormac and Burke and him, sans the ladies, but it hadn't worked out that way. Burke's internship had run late and it looked like he wasn't going to be able to make it. Kess had come over to grab a shirt she'd need for work tomorrow and Cormac had invited her to stay for the movie. So now Finn sat in the recliner while his cousin and Kess sat on the sofa together, warmly ensconced in couplehood. Finn nursed his soda and fumed quietly. Truth be told, it wasn't like they were being all handsy, get a room about it. Kess sat next to Cormac on the couch, her feet drawn up next to her. His cousin had his arm around her, but otherwise there were no PDAs to get tweaked about. It still irked him though. Cormac and Kess weren't in your face about it, but Finn still felt left out. It wasn't like he wanted to start cuddling with them, but things were always so much easier when he had a girlfriend. He never had to worry about being the odd man out, never had to feel like an intrusion, even when he was invited along. If it had just stayed him and Cormac, the night would have been fine, but now he felt like Burke and Kess had ruined it. Finn knew he was being petty. And a little petulant. And he knew that it wasn't them he was really mad at. It was easier, though, than admitting that the argument with his father had bothered him. He didn't like feeling like his father was angry with him, or worse, disappointed. He honestly had never expected Shannon to come by the Barn to check up on him. He didn't feel that strongly about her and they'd only been out a few times; it was a little early to be going all psycho about checking in and stuff. He'd been hoping for a casual blow off—he felt no need to have a "talk" with her since they weren't exclusive or anything. He'd just planned to ignore the situation until it, and she, went away. His dad had made sure that wasn't going to happen now. Finn got up, ready to be gone. Cormac asked, "You need me to pause it?" "Nah, I'm gonna head out."

Cormac gave him a strange look, but didn't say anything. Kess looked at him with an expression he found hard to read: it was curiosity, laughter and sadness in equal measure. He let himself out the door and into the warm night air. He wondered what was wrong with him. A girl like Shannon was a perfect summer fling for him—nothing too serious. But she bored him to tears. He didn't know if he was growing beyond the dubious charms of the easy pickings around here, but he allowed it was a possibility. He thought that maybe his packmate's choices in girls might be affecting him. Burke's girlfriend Lindsay wasn't a were, nor was she what anyone'd call a ball of excitement, but she was smart, with a sharp tongue and acid wit to go with it. Kess was exotic; the wereleopard was pretty low key most of the time, but when she changed Finn was reminded of just how dangerous she could be. While he was not attracted to her—no more than was reasonable considering she was dating his cousin anyway—he did find that side of her very appealing. None of the girls around here offered that. He climbed into his Jeep and took his phone out of his pocket. He dialed Shannon's number. Finn always took numbers but never gave out his own. That way was too much hassle. He liked to be in control of who did the calling. She picked up after the fourth ring, much to his chagrin. He'd been hoping to just leave a message on her voicemail and be done with it. "Hello?' "Hi, Shannon, it's me. Finn." The temperature in her voice edged down by several hundred degrees. "Oh." "Look, I'm really sorry. I meant to call, but things got busy…." Finn wasn't good at bad scenes. He preferred avoidance. "Anyway, my dad told me you came by. I'm sorry if you were worried." He tried for apologetic little boy, but it was hard to do over the phone. And Shannon wasn't feeling it anyway. "Don't worry, Finn. I got the message. Loud and clear." "Look, don't be like that. I really was busy." "Please. The only reason you're calling me now is because your dad probably made you." She didn't sound upset, just really, really disappointed. "All you had to do was tell me you weren't interested instead of acting like an infant." She hung up. Finn sat in his Jeep, looking at the phone. Sometimes he seriously considered giving up on women altogether and going to live in a yurt somewhere.

*********** Finn kept even with Cormac, content to let his cousin set the pace for now. They were jogging the western edge of the property. Neither of them were in wolf form since this was more for exercise than patrol. It was early, the sun just barely cresting the horizon and already getting warm. It was easier to run the trails well before the heat of midday. They were checking the property line for fence breaks or other obvious signs of intrusion. It had become imperative of late to keep outsiders off the land, especially in light of the other weres that occasionally passed through their pack's territory. They had to be cautious because Kess was around too. It was unlikely that Sekhmet would be back without them hearing about it, but it still paid to be prepared for the unexpected. It wouldn’t do to just have people wander through. They had too much to lose. Finn ran at an easy lope, long legs making quick work of the miles on this side of the property. He enjoyed the feeling that came with running. It helped him turn his mind off, the pounding of his feet on packed earth determining the cadence his heart followed. It freed his head from uncomfortable thoughts, blotted out everything he didn't want to think about: girl troubles, pack issues, his dad's expectations. That is, until Mac had to open his mouth. "Heard you had a visitor at the Barn." Mac didn't look at him, just kept his eyes forward. Finn resisted the urge to growl. "I didn't. My dad did. How'd you know?" Finn saw Mac shoot him a side-eye. "Duh." "Kess." Finn grimaced. "Didn't think she was the gossipy type." Mac frowned. "She's not. She was worried you might be in trouble after you left last night." Finn rolled his eyes. Did everyone know about his dad's rule? Griff had implemented the No Dating the Servers rule knowing that Finn tended to go through girls like a tornado through a trailer park and he didn't want that agro in his restaurant. He'd applied it to all of them: Burke, Finn, and Cormac, but it was pretty obvious who was exempt since Cormac was dating Kess. Now Kess was worried he might be in trouble. Why on earth would she be worried? What kind of scene had Shannon thrown? Finn felt relieved to be rid of her if this was how it was going to be.

"Did she say anything? About, um, Shannon?" "Not much. Just that a girl had shown up looking for you. And that she could tell your dad was kind of pissed. She thought maybe there'd been a scare or something." Finn was confused. "A scare?" Cormac snorted. "Pregnancy, dumbass." Finn kept to an abrupt stop. "Wait, wait. You guys thought I had knocked a girl up?" Sometimes living in a small town with a close family could be a huge pain in the ass. Normally he wasn't concerned about people being in his business, but now he felt trapped. He wondered how many other people at the Barn had thought that. He didn't like it, that people might have that kind of opinion of him. "Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence there." Mac had stopped when he had. "Dude, seriously? You aren't exactly a celibate monk—and you make no secret about it. A girl shows up at your dad's restaurant, upset and looking for you…" "And everyone jumps to the wrong conclusion. That's great. Really nice." Finn took off again, before his anger found an outlet he'd regret. He ran, not caring if Cormac could keep up. His cousin followed him easily, not bothered with the pace he set. "Okay, so Kess got the wrong idea. It isn't out of the realm of possibility though." Finn didn't trust himself to answer. His father's words from their talk a few evenings ago came back to him. Was it so easy for people to expect that of him? What kind of impression was he putting out there? He had always been the joker, the clown of the family. He wasn't smart and quiet like Burke or steady and easygoing like Cormac. But it seemed like lately he was the neverdo-well one. "What are you so jacked up about anyway?" "I'm jacked up because some people should mind their own damn business, okay!" Finn didn't like being gossip fodder for a bunch of his dad's waitresses. "Kess didn't tell anybody. She didn't even tell your dad what she thought. She only asked me about it last night." Mac's voice was quiet, but Finn could tell that his cousin was beginning to get angry. "And it isn't just this--you were edgy before we even started out. What is it?" Finn slowed to an easy jog. He decided to come clean with his cousin. Mac was a pretty good head to bounce ideas off of and he wouldn't tease Finn as unrelentingly as Burke. "I talked to Shannon last night."

"And?" "She called me an infant." Finn tried to keep the sulk out of his voice. It had bothered him more than he liked to admit. He'd been going along, having a good time. It hadn't occurred to him that he was hurting anyone. Well, okay, it had occurred to him. It had just never been thrown in his face so bluntly before. "Ah."Cormac’s voice was carefully neutral. Finn sucked in a frustrated breath. "That's all you've got? Ah?" "Well, clearly it's bothering you. What do you want me to say?" Again with the neutral tone. "I'm not an infant!" Finn realized that this conversation was probably not helping his quest to be taken seriously. "Not outwardly, no." Finn could swear he heard a smile in Mac's voice. "What's that supposed to mean?" His cousin shrugged. "Nothing really." But now Mac was smiling. Widely. Finn glared at him. "Whatever, man." "Hey, if what she said bothers you that much, do something about it." Like what? Finn thought it, but didn't voice it. This felt too much like his conversation with his father. He didn't want to get into that mess of problems; not out here in the middle of a run. And he certainly didn't want his cousin to know just in case Mac decided to blab it all to Kess, or worse, Alaric. The less the pack Alpha knew about his crisis of impending adulthood, the better. "Let's head back," Finn said. "I don’t feel much like running anymore."

Chapter Eleven Samara eyed her chosen spy carefully. This would be a dangerous job, and she'd lost a number of pack members on similar missions already. But she thought it worth it if she could gather more intelligence about what was going on at the wereleopard house. Sek had been quiet of late. The werehyena leader didn't want to be caught unawares. She'd heard rumors of visitors. She may not have eyes on Sekhmet at all times, but that didn't mean Samara was lax in her information gathering. The house had employees that worked there: cleaning service, chef, groundskeepers. She'd made sure to establish inroads with most of them. If Sek was attempting an alliance with these newcomers, she wanted to know about it. Her spy, a twenty-something werehyena female, was imminently reliable. Samara couldn't risk mistakes; this one had been relatively successful in previous forays into Miami, in that she had come back alive from them. She hated to send her, but knowledge was more important than the woman's safety. The woman understood that the needs of the pack outweighed personal safety. If they wanted Miami, they'd need to know what was happening there before they could plan their final gambit. Samara had hoped to be able to send Teresa, but the girl was just too bold. Sometimes what you needed was finesse; a scalpel rather than a bayonet. Samara took a grim pride in knowing which was required and who was best suited to the job. Teresa would be let loose when bloody mayhem was the order of the day. For now, restraint was what was needed. She gave the spy her orders. The woman was to observe only, discovering as much as she could about the newcomers. If they were there on business, what business? If pleasure, than who's? It was imperative she glean as much as she could and return to Samara with an accurate picture of what was going on in that house. The woman nodded and left the house. Samara knew the spy had a couple of hours drive to make it into Miami proper; she needed to get started. Samara rubbed tired eyes, then caught herself. That would stretch the fine skin around her eyes and give her dark circles. She chose to massage her temples instead. The wait was beyond frustrating for her--she'd spent years trying to

get a foothold into the southern city. She was close, she could feel it. All Sekhmet needed to do would be to make one mistake and she'd be on him. Her pack needed the new territory, but more importantly, Samara deserved it. She deserved a place that was better suited to who and what she was--an incredibly attractive, intelligent, and powerful woman. She was wasted out here in these small towns and cities. She wanted a powerful territory where people would beg to curry her favor. Instead, because of what she was, she was forced to live on the fringes, living off scraps of the carcass. She wanted power and wealth and adoration. In Miami, she would have it. Samara looked up to find Teresa lounging against the kitchen door frame. She must have come in the back door. "I still don't understand why you didn't send me. I can be discreet." Samara resisted the urge to slap her daughter for her questioning. Teresa was about as discreet as a hurricane. She wasn't in the mood to argue, but she was also less concerned about Teresa's outbursts. It showed a natural power, a confidence. That was good, so long as it was offset by a healthy respect and fear of her pack leader. Her daughter had a great deal of pride, which could be used to Samara's advantage. Pride was a weakness and Samara was excellent at sniffing it out and twisting it to her own ends. Still Teresa's cooperation would be needed very soon. Teresa could be annoying, true, but she was also an asset. It cost Samara nothing to ignore the questioning of her decision this time. "I need you here." It was a sop to her daughter's pride. Samara needed no one. Teresa left her post at the doorway and came into the living room, dropping onto the couch with a sigh. "I'm bored." "Go do something." "Like what?" "I don't know. Go to a movie, torment your brother, pull the heads off of rats. I don't care. You're old enough to entertain yourself." "Rafe's at the library." Teresa was pouting. Samara waved this information away. As long as her children left her alone, she didn't care where they ended up. She'd had no desire for children; they had been her mate’s idea and pack law dictated that she should reproduce. She'd had Teresa and Rafe out of necessity, not out of any kind of maternal need. The fact that she'd been forced to raise them on her own was nature's cruel joke.

"Gather up the girls. Go out." She was rapidly losing her patience with her eldest. "It's too hot and too early to go out." Samara sighed. She was trying to be pleasant to Teresa, but her daughter sometimes suffered from a lack of imagination. Samara hadn't been what anyone could call an involved parent, and she wasn't going to start now. Teresa would follow her orders when the time came—that was enough. She had no interest in indulging her daughter's irritating whining. "I have plans to make, Teresa. Go busy yourself somewhere else." This was her last warning. Samara thought that perhaps she'd been too soft on Teresa by clearly marking her as her favorite. Rafe would never have dared to engage in such annoying behavior around her. Teresa was becoming too comfortable. Teresa fell back on the sofa cushions. "I don't see why I can't be involved in the planning." "You're not the pack leader. This is something I have to do." "I will be one day." Teresa eyes were dark. "Not today." Samara watched her daughter, keeping her expression cold. Yes, Teresa was definitely far too comfortable with her favored position. She wondered when Teresa might work up the nerve to challenge her. Samara wasn't too concerned for herself, but she'd hate to lose a valuable member of their pack. Samara wasn't going anywhere. "Soon maybe." There was something in her voice that Samara didn't like. Enough of this. If Teresa wanted to fight, Samara would teach her a lesson. Samara was changing before Teresa even thought to move. She twitched and shrunk, muscles and bones recalibrating to an animal shape and then Samara the hyena was moving. Teresa was triggering her own change, but Samara didn't hesitate. She just plowed into her, throwing her to the side, smashing an end table and a lamp. Samara didn't let up, snapping at Teresa with powerful jaws. Teresa tried to scrabble away, unable to change with Samara right on top of her. Samara placed a paw on her daughter's chest, claws flexed out so the threat was evident. Teresa had seen what Samara could do with these claws. Her brother's face bore witness to it. The girl stilled. Samara changed back quickly. She was so used to switching forms by now that it was almost instantaneous. She crouched in front of her daughter, her hand still in the place where her paw has rested. She grabbed Teresa by the shirt and yanked her up. When their faces were almost touching Samara bared perfectly even white teeth.

"You think you can take me, little girl, you go ahead and try. But until you have the guts to challenge me, you'll do what I say, when I say. And until I say, you'll stay out of my sight. Do you understand?" She never raised her voice, but she didn't need to. Not with Teresa watching her with huge eyes. Teresa got to her feet, mostly steady. Samara watched her go, noting the glare her daughter gave her. Yes, she'd definitely need to be wary of Teresa, but that day was a long time from now. Samara felt she had proven her point. Her children needed to remember their places. Both of them. Samara stood. She went into her bedroom and found some new clothes to wear. Then she sat down on the edge of her bed and pinched the bridge of her nose. God, parenting was such a pain in the ass.

Chapter Twelve Laila wandered around the house, wondering where Mebis had got to. They'd been by the pool earlier, but then he'd gotten up to take a look around, for what she wasn't sure. She knew he was okay--that wasn't the problem. No, the problem was this damn bathing suit and all of the naked and half naked people lounging in and out of the water. They had only been in Miami a short time and she had already hit skin overload. It was just as hot in New Orleans and you didn't see as much flesh as you saw here. Laila didn't consider herself particularly modest, but she might have to rethink her stance on that. "Something I can help you with?" a voice asked behind her. Laila turned and saw Sek lounging in a doorway that led deeper into the house. There was no other word for what he was doing--his stance had a sort of boneless grace that, even though he was upright, lounging was implied. She had no idea how he managed it. She chalked it up to it being a cat thing. "Taking a break from out there," she half-lied, waving a hand towards the pool. "Care to try something different?" There was a sly note to his voice, almost innuendo but just shy of it. "You strike me as wanting something more exciting than just sitting by the pool." Laila considered. She was supposed to be observing the other wereleopards, to gather information. But Mebis had also made Sek one of her priorities too. They had been running into each other frequently in the few days since her arrival, but it was usually in the company of other people. She was wary of the clan leader; his erratic behavior combined with the feeling that something was definitely off about him made her careful. Still, he intrigued her. There was something attractive about him and he was almost always incredibly pleasant when he spoke to her. Plus there was that underlying sense of danger that clung to him. Laila wanted to find out where that came from. She made her decision. "What did you have in mind?" "Do you like boats?" **********

Laila shouted with joy as Sek slewed the Baja Outlaw speedboat around the marker and picked up speed again. The stiff wind ripped through her hair and she practically howled with delight as she came close to the feeling of actually flying. Skimming over the water in the highpowered boat, its engine howling like a living thing, she felt her worries drop away. Sek was grinning hugely, ratcheting the boat up to speeds over 60 miles an hour and he laughed out loud when she threw her arms over her head and screamed as if she were on a roller coaster. Laila didn’t think he did that very often. “Speed junkie!” he shouted at her over the roar of the wind and the engine. “You bet!” she agreed. Sek put the boat through its paces, delighting her with sharp turns and a little wake jumping. Laila was enraptured—you didn’t get this in New Orleans. It was glorious. The sun beat down on them, but the wind off the water kept them relatively cool, although she was glad that clouds were beginning to roll in to block some of the blinding heat. She watched Sek out of the corner of her eyes. He seemed more relaxed than she’d seen him in the day since they’d first met. The boat slowed as Sek brought the speed down to a level where they could speak without yelling. He began to point out landmarks and some areas of interest. Laila stood next to the wheel with him, looking at where he pointed. “It’s so beautiful here,” she said, eyes drinking in the sea and sand and mansions that lined the islands. “Not very much like New Orleans then?” “Nothing like. We have river boats, not speedboats for one. Everything is slower there--the pace, the people, even the transportation,” she said, thinking of the St. Charles streetcar. “Miami is all flash and adrenaline.” “Not all of it. You’re seeing the good side.” His expression had turned dark. Laila noted it thoughtfully. Now we're getting somewhere. “That’s all you’re showing me.” She caught the sidelong glance Sek gave her, his face tense. “You’d like to see the other?” Laila shrugged, getting the impression that they weren’t just talking about hometowns anymore. “Every city has its bad parts. Show me one city that doesn’t have a rundown neighborhood somewhere in it. To pretend they don’t exist is stupid.”

He nodded slowly, mind working on something. Laila kept her eyes on the water, giving him a kind of mental privacy but she stole glances to watch his face. Finally, he smiled but it didn't reach his eyes. “That's a very interesting theory.” Laila didn’t answer; it wasn’t a statement she needed to respond to. His mask was back. She turned around, putting her back against the console so she could watch the wake of the boat. Sek turned the wheel and they began to make another loop. “If I’d thought to bring the equipment,” he said, changing the subject, “you could have gone water skiing.” “Nah.” Laila stared at the froth that churned at the boat’s passing. She thought she'd try to push him, maybe see where it got her. “I’d rather be here with you.” She saw his hands go still on the controls. When he spoke, it was in a voice that didn’t sound like his own. “Is that so?” Laila cocked her head so she could look up at him. It was the first time she'd ever seen a truly unguarded expression on his face. She must have caught him by surprise with her words. It was only for a moment, and then his openness was replaced by something more calculating. Her heart skipped and she realized that she was out on the water alone with someone who wasn't terribly steady. “Yes,” she said, trying to give him a genuine smile. She could feel her scar crinkling. Sek’s face loomed in closer, and she thought he might try to kiss her. She had no idea what she would do if that happened. He merely leaned in and put his mouth and nose close to her hair, inhaling her scent. Laila held herself still, muscles ready to twitch into motion and attack. He drew back slowly, eyes half-lidded, almost drunk. Then she saw his eyes flash and a wicked grin blossomed on his face. He shoved the boat into a higher gear, revving the engine and they skipped across the water like a stone thrown from the bank. *********** Laila meandered down the hall towards Sek's office. They'd gone to lunch earlier in the day, at her request that he show her more of the city, and then he'd taken her to Vizcaya Gardens. It was nice there--the house and grounds were lovely--but Laila was beginning to feel restless. She wanted to do something a lot more physical. She was used to training every day and her laps in

the pool weren't cutting it. She couldn't even spar with Mebis if they wanted to keep from blowing their cover. She thought that maybe Sek would be able to suggest someplace good to go for a run so she could relieve some of her excess energy. Raised voices were coming from the closed office door. Laila stopped, ears perked, trying to make out who was in there. Sek obviously--she recognized his voice immediately. He sounded agitated, angry. Another voice, this one calm and even, was less familiar. She thought it might be Sek's advisor, Bomani. She debated about going back the way she'd come, but knew that this was exactly the type of thing Mebis was on the lookout for. Finding out why Sek was upset was why she was here. She heard the sound of glass breaking. Laila leaned well away from the door as Sek screamed at someone to get out. She couldn't understand what could have gotten him so upset. He'd been fine only a couple of hours ago when they'd returned from their trip to Vizcaya. Maybe a little agitated, but she chalked that up to stress. What had changed in such a short time? Bomani came out of Sek's office to the crescendo sounds of more breaking glass. He closed the door behind him and stopped short when he saw her. Laila stood her ground, neck still craned as she tried to catch a glimpse into the room before the door blocked her view. "Now is perhaps not the best time. Sekhmet is somewhat...indisposed." The clan counselor's voice was neutral, but Laila caught something turbulent in his eyes. "I'll risk it." She thought she could handle whatever Sek might dish out and she needed to get in there to evaluate the clan leader's mood to report it to her brother. Bomani put his hand on her arm to stay her, but Laila brushed past him. "It's not a good idea,” he warned once more. Laila ignored him and opened the door. Sek was braced against his desk, hands flat on the wood. He was hunched over as if in pain, but his head snapped up when he heard the door open. His eyes were dark beneath brows drawn down in anger. She tried for casual. "Heck of an excuse to buy new glasses," she said, indicating the shattered glasses near the bar. "Not a good time, Laila." His voice was strained and held a deliberate warning. Laila ignored it. "Whatever it is, it can't be that bad." She looked around, trying to see what might have gotten him so worked up. "You could tell me about it."

He snarled at her, fury in every line of him. His muscles vibrated with tension, like a guitar strung too tightly. His voice was low and choked when he spoke next. "I don't want you here. Not when you remind me of her. GET OUT." Remind him of whom, exactly? "What are you…." Faster than she'd ever seen anyone move who wasn't Mebis, Sek grabbed the silver letter opener off his desk and flung it at her head. Laila dodged, her hand reaching up to pluck it out of the air, but she was shocked. She'd never expected him to react to her this way. She stood completely motionless, staring at him in silence. His jaw was clenched tightly, as if biting back more harsh words. Laila could feel the scowl on her face. She had no idea what was wrong with him, and right now, she didn't particularly care. Let him sit here and rot with whatever it was. She had what she needed to tell Mebis anyway. "Fine." She threw the silver letter opener back at him, satisfied when it thunked into the wood of the desktop and vibrated there. Then she was out the door, leaving him alone as he'd asked.

Chapter Thirteen It was late, well after midnight, when Laila and Mebis made their way across the open lawn between their guest cottage and the main house under the pale light of the half moon. She knew that Sekhmet would be awake and wandering about the house. She’d come to know his schedule and habits since her arrival in Miami, and had dutifully reported them to Mebis. Not that knowing his movements made her any closer to understanding the clan leader. Watching him had become painful. It was evident to anyone who cared to look that Sek was not in control of himself. He was moody, prone to violent outbursts just as much as he was prone to giddy enthusiasm. He was dangerous and unpredictable and Laila did not relish the time spent in his company. He was likeable at times, but those times were rare. It made her a little sad; there was a person worth knowing in Sek, but it was strangled by massive mental problems. The two of them reached the pool. No one was out here now that the parties were over. It was quiet and still. Mebis did a quick perimeter sweep to be sure there were no guards, then came back to her. He reached around to the back of his waist and produced the long ceremonial knife that each Keeper used for their offerings to Anubis and held it out to her. “Off you go,” he said. "What's this?" She knew what that knife meant, but didn't understand why Mebis had it out now. Her brother rolled his eyes. "A garden gnome. What the hell does it look like, Laila?" "I thought we were just going in to hack into some of his files?" She realized how stupid she sounded, but couldn't help herself. She'd suspected that assassination was the real purpose of their time here in Miami, but she hadn’t expected that she was the one who'd be doing the actual killing. She was too young for initiation! Mebis hadn't even hinted this was coming. "I don't understand—why didn't you tell me?" She would have liked to have known at least a little bit ahead of time so she could have been mentally prepared. “This is your test, pest, not mine.” He put the blade in her hand. “Get on with it. And bring back the proof.” His eyes were hard and Laila knew he was sizing her up as a Keeper, not as her

brother. If she hesitated too long, she’d fail. Keepers weren't squeamish and they had to be able to improvise. She took the knife and stuck it underneath her shirt and entered the house. She tried to calm her nerves and wiped palms that were suddenly sweaty on her jeans. Laila had been training for her initiation for years--all of the martial arts, strategy and tactics weren't for nothing-- but she hadn’t thought it would be like this. She hadn’t thought that she’d be kept in the dark about her place in the real mission; that she’d be forced to kill a man she’d actually spent time with. When she'd thought about her initiation it was always in abstract. No faces to distract her, no personal feelings to get in her way. She’d never really thought she’d have to get her hands dirty. She felt incredibly naïve now. Her soft-soled shoes made little noise on the cold tile floors as she searched the sprawling house for her quarry. She tried to put everything out of her mind, except how much she wanted to be a Keeper. That was the goal, it was what she’d been groomed for, and it was what her family expected of her. She had to focus. She wouldn’t fail now, not when she was this close. She could do this. Sek was drinking in his office. He was behind the desk, pouring another dram of scotch into the heavy cut crystal glasses he favored. She closed the door behind her and waited until he turned around. “Laila.” He said her name softly. It almost sounded grateful. Then he cleared his throat and the tone of false cheer that he’d been using with his guests the past few days returned. “What can I do for you?” Laila realized that she had no plan at all for how to actually do this. Thinking that tonight's mission was a simple hack and grab, she hadn’t had any time to plan out the best way to approach or subdue the target. It was sloppy and stupid on her part—she should at least have had some idea of what she would have done if Sek had caught them. She looked at Sek closely, trying to get a feel for him, to see if she could ferret out a weakness. She’d need to talk to buy time. “You’re sad.” Now that she said it, she knew that it was true. His eyes were sunken and shadowed, but there was pain lurking back there. It had been there the whole time she'd been with him.

He nodded, coming around the desk and offering her a seat. Instead she moved closer to him; being seated was never a good place to be if you needed to strike quickly. He didn’t seem to mind, instead sitting on the edge of the desk. She joined him so that they were side by side. “Seeing you with your brother made me miss some things more than ever,” he said, eyes roving around the room. Laila kept quiet. She and Mebis had kept their relation to each other a secret, but it appeared Sek knew. She wondered what else he knew. “How’d you figure it out?” “Little things. You and he reminded me of Kess and me. In better days. Before she left.” He took a swig of his drink, then put the glass down. He looked over at her, and she saw that some of the tense lines had smoothed from his face. He smiled slightly down at her and she realized how nice his smile was when it was real. “Kess?” She needed to keep him talking while she figured out a plan. She didn't want to fail in her first strike and risk him transforming into a leopard—it would make killing him that much harder. “My younger sister. She'd be about your age.” His eyes wandered over her face. And I bet she has black hair too. Laila clenched her jaw. So that's why she'd been selected to go with Mebis. And why he'd had her dye her hair. She swallowed her anger; she could indulge in it later. For now, she had to complete her initiation. "Where is she? Why isn't she here?" She’d heard the whispers when she was trying to be unobtrusive. The wereleopards were not gossipy folk, so she hadn’t gleaned much, but she had figured out enough to know that Kess’ reason for staying away, at least in part, was Sek. She wondered what had happened between brother and sister. "I'm not a very nice person, Laila." Sek smiled a gruesome smile, one that made Laila wish she held her knife in her hand. "My sister will attest to that. But you already knew that didn't you?" She nodded slowly and began to edge away from him. She'd need room to get in a good, solid strike and right now he was way too close to her. "You remind me of her, you know," he whispered, putting his face close to hers. There was something in his eyes that she didn't like the look of and she heeded her instincts. Laila pushed herself away from the desk and towards the door to the room, drawing her knife as she did so. Sek grabbed her arm and she slashed, cutting through his shirt and gashing

his forearm. He released her, clapping his hand over the wound. Laila crouched, eyes on Sekhmet. "So it's to be you?" He laughed, a dark and ugly sound. "How many have you killed then?" She felt a calm descend on her as she was suddenly sure she could do this. She was a Keeper, had been since birth. Now was the time for her to take her rightful place among them. So she didn't lie when she answered, "You're my first." Sekhmet drew back for a split second. Then a nasty smile crossed his face. "A virgin? How nice for me." He sauntered closer to her. "I wonder who could have sent you?" Laila ignored the innuendo. Sek was messed up in ways she couldn’t even begin to fathom. She was performing a necessary task, culling the weak from the herd. He was no longer fit to rule. She eyed him carefully, waiting for the right time to strike, for when she could do the most damage. When she didn't reply, Sek answered his own question. "Samara, maybe?" He shook his head. "No, she'd much rather do her own dirty work and I highly doubt she could afford your services." He tapped a long finger along his cheek. "I'm betting Bomani. About time the old man took some initiative. He's going to be disappointed his money was wasted." Laila didn't pay much attention to his ramblings, designed as they were to distract her. She was ready when he lunged at her, his hands forming claws to swipe at her head. She threw her body backwards, the knife coming up to slash at his hands. She caught him a glancing blow and blood flew. Sek danced back, wounds now on both arms. "Keepers don't fail," Laila told him bluntly, keeping herself between him and the door. He wasn't really trying to hurt her, that she could tell, and it bothered her. "You're not a Keeper." He feinted to the left, then dove at her, but Laila had been reading his core, had seen the way he was going to go. His jaws gaped wide as he began to morph. His hands were beginning to change into paws, the claws already extended. Instead of dodging this time, she stepped into him, her knife slamming home. She jammed the knife into his chest up to the hilt. He made a choking noise, crumpling to the ground around the knife, his change forgotten. "I am now." She eased him to the floor. He was making small noises in the back of his throat as he bled out. "Tell my sister I'm sorry," he managed to gasp out between the less coherent sounds of pain.

Laila nodded, sitting on her heels. "May you be lighter than a feather," she whispered as she stared at him. It was what you hoped your heart would weigh when placed on Anubis' scales, a blessing of sorts. Laila suspected Sekhmet could use all the blessings he could get. She watched the blood pool around him as his eyes slowly dimmed. When he was gone, she said a brief prayer in the hope that Anubis would deem her offering worthy and removed her knife. Then she sliced deep into the flesh underneath his ribcage to get out his heart.

Chapter Fourteen Finn was in a dead sleep when he felt someone shaking him. He pushed the offending hand away without opening his eyes, but it just came back more insistent than ever. With a groan, he rolled over. He opened his eyes and snapped out, “What?” in a sleepy croak. Burke was rummaging through his dresser, already throwing clothes at him. Finn didn’t bother to sit up, just let the clothes settle on him and the bed. Maybe his brother would go away soon if he didn’t move. Burke’s words put the lie to that hope. “Move it, dude. Pack council NOW.” Finn finally sat up, rubbing sleep from his eyes. His brother was already dressed. “What time is it?” “I don’t know, five thirty maybe. Move your ass. I’ll be outside.” Finn extricated himself from the tangle of sheets and blankets on his bed and pulled on jeans and a t-shirt. He had no clue what could be so urgent that he had to attend a pack meeting at oh dark thirty, but knew Burke wouldn’t wait for him forever. He slid into shoes and took the stairs two at a time. He probably could have used a shower or at least a chance to brush his teeth, but if the emergency was enough to call a pack meeting at this hour, then everyone would just have to deal with his bed head and morning breath. He just hoped that Aunt Em was brewing some strong coffee. Burke already had his Jeep started and facing the road, and he took off before Finn had even gotten a chance to shut the door. The roads were empty as they climbed the mountain that would take them to the Lodge. Finn tried to stay awake and get some answers from Burke, but his brother had none to give. When they pulled in, their dad’s car was already there, alongside Cormac’s Jeep. It looked like everyone was already here. He hopped out and hurried to the front door, Burke just a step behind. They were all gathered in the huge living room: Griff, Alaric, Emmeline, Cormac, and Kess. Two carafes of coffee sat on the coffee table beside piles of bagels, scrambled eggs, bacon, and various pastries. Finn piled up his plate and grabbed a cup of coffee and settled in next to Cormac on the couch.

He took a second to look around the room. Alaric was standing by the picture window, looking out as the sun was beginning to color the sky a dusky rose. Emmeline was seated, passing out plates. His father was also seated, talking in low tones to Burke. Cormac was beside Kess, as usual, and he looked taut as a bowstring. He wasn’t eating, but kept trying to push food on her. When he was that uptight, it usually had something to do with her family. The last time they'd had Kess at a pack meeting had been when her brother had come to town. It had been touch and go. Sekhmet had managed to kidnap both Mac and Kess, with a little time left over to carve up Mac like he was a Thanksgiving turkey, before Kess had fought him off. Sekhmet had been badly injured, but Kess had stopped herself just shy of killing him. Finn, Burke and Alaric had all been witnesses that night. It was not something any of them wanted to repeat. Finn could feel his shoulders tightening up just thinking about it. Finn looked at Kess. She sat beside Cormac, but wasn't touching him or leaning on him for support. She was quiet, withdrawn, but not quivering with tension like she’d been when the wereleopards had come to town over the winter. It was more like she had sunk into herself a little. He wondered what the heck had happened. Obviously it was related to the leopards or Kess wouldn’t have been invited. She was never included in strictly werewolf business. He took a slug of coffee and waited for Alaric to begin. To his surprise, it was Kess who spoke. She looked down at her hands the entire time, but her voice could still be clearly heard. “I’m sorry to bother all of you. I got a phone call early this morning from the clan counselor. My brother has been murdered.” Finn almost choked on the mouthful he was swallowing. That hadn’t been what he’d expected to hear. It didn’t surprise him, though. When Sekhmet had turned up here in January, he’d been a first class psycho, bullying his sister, smashing her head into a mirror, and then trying to kill one of their own. As far as Finn was concerned, the guy had it coming. He’d killed his own father and tried to kidnap his sister. His list of enemies must have been long and distinguished. “I’m going back to Miami to handle the details and see exactly what is going on down there. Cormac has offered to come with me.” Finn nodded. Yeah, try and keep Mac from going with her and you’d probably lose a limb and have it fed to you. Saying Mac was protective of Kess was like saying Antarctica was a little

on the cold side. He swallowed some more coffee, wondering why they needed to have a meeting about this. “We don’t know what the situation is like in Miami,” Alaric added, turning from the window. “Kess and Cormac have proven they can take care of themselves, but I think another set of eyes would be beneficial.” Finn perked up. A trip to Miami? Getting off the mountain to go somewhere sunny and tropical and where the women wore very little? Sign him up! But just as quickly he subsided— Burke would probably get to go. He worked more with Cormac and was being groomed for Betahood. It would be him. Alaric was already speaking. “Burke, if you’re free?” Before Burke could answer, Griff spoke up. “I think in this case, Alaric, it makes more sense for Finn to go. We don’t know how long they’ll be down there and Burke has his internship going.” Finn felt his father’s eyes on him and looked up to meet them. His dad was giving him a chance to prove he was more than just the family’s punchline. “Finn will be able to handle anything that comes up.” Alaric looked back and forth between the two of them, studying father and son. For a moment, Finn wondered if the Alpha would go against his Beta’s counsel and order Burke to go, but then Alaric said, “Finn it is then. If that’s okay with him.” “Yes sir,” Finn said, nodding. “That’s fine with me.” “He can’t wait to take a look at all those pretty girls in their bikinis,” Burke drawled, grinning at his younger brother and seeming not the least bit sorry to have lost out on a trip to Miami. “Happy hunting, bro.” Finn tried to grin back, but found he didn’t want to. His brother was only teasing him, like he usually did, but he didn’t want this turned into a joke. This was serious and he didn’t want it treated like it was excuse for him to party like it was spring break. His dad had listened to what he’d said and had given him an opportunity to prove himself as something other than the goof off. He inclined his head to his dad in thanks. Griff just winked at him. “That’s settled,” Alaric said, sitting down to a plate Emmeline had fixed for him. “I’ll leave you three to make your plans then. You’re to check in with Griff and me twice a day.”

Kess got up. “I’ll go make the flight arrangements. We’re leaving today.” She smiled at Finn, then went upstairs where she could presumably get their tickets while the rest of them talked. Conversations started up around him and Finn slid a little closer to Cormac. His cousin was piling his plate up with food. “So Mac, what’s the deal?” Mac shrugged. “Beats me. Kess’ phone rang a few hours ago and Bomani was on the line. He didn’t give any details, just said Sek was dead and it looked like someone killed him. Which means it wasn’t a challenge for clan leadership. Kess didn’t want to go down right away but Bomani talked her into it.” “There’s got to be something going on. I mean, your dad is sending two of us—and it’s not just so you won’t be lonely.” “I called him as soon as Kess told me what happened and how she had to go back. I’m not letting her go alone, even if Sek is dead.” Mac ran a hand through his hair and rubbed his neck. “I guess Dad’s just trying to be careful.” “Or he doesn’t trust the cats. Can’t blame him on that one. Kess looks to be the only good one of the whole bunch. Sek was so twisted it’s a wonder his own guts didn’t strangle him.” Finn got the idea that Alaric’s trust of Kess was grudging at best; the pack leader hadn’t accepted her as easily has Finn's own father had. But Griff had worked with Kess on a daily basis—she waitressed at the Barn—well before anyone knew of her were status. Mac didn’t say anything, chewing thoughtfully. When he spoke, he met Finn’s eyes with a grim look. “I get the feeling that things with Sek aren’t over. Even though he’s dead.” “How’s Kess?” Finn had always had a hard time reading her. “I don’t know. She seems okay, but I mean, this is Sek we’re talking about here. She wasn’t his biggest fan, but he’s still her brother.” “Could it be a trick? Could he be faking his death to get her back down there?” Mac shook his head. “Kess doesn’t think so—I already asked. She seemed pretty convinced by everything Bomani said.” His brows drew down in a scowl and Finn knew that Cormac wasn’t necessarily swayed by this argument. “That’s why I’m going down there with her. In case anything happens, I want to be there.” “And I get to come along for the ride,” Finn said with a smile, stretching his arms above his head.

“You know this isn’t a field trip, right?” Mac asked him, his face serious. Finn dropped his arms back to his sides. He wondered if Mac had wished Burke had been chosen. Mr. Reliable. “Yeah, Mac, I know. I got your back. And Kess’ too if it comes to it. You know that.” Cormac nodded once, sharply. He gathered his plate and Finn’s and stood up to take them into the kitchen. “You’d best get packed. We need to be ready to leave quickly.” Finn watched his cousin’s retreating back, then turned to see if Burke could give him a ride home. And then: Miami. *********** When the plane touched down in Miami, Finn was ready to go do something. The flight hadn't been bad, but coupled with the drive to Charlotte, then the layover, and the fact that Kess was nonverbal through most of the trip, which led to Cormac being nonverbal in solidarity, it meant that Finn had gotten bored. It was with relief that he exited the plane and waited for their luggage. At least baggage claim had something going on, even if it was just bags going around in a circle. There was a hired car waiting for them. Kess ordered the driver to take them straight to her home and folded in on herself, quiet once more. Finn took the opportunity to look out the window and marvel at Miami. It was hotter than anywhere he'd ever been and the humidity was making him feel like he was still in the shower, but it did have perks—there were a lot of lovely ladies that weren't wearing a whole lot of clothes. He heard Cormac asking Kess questions about things they were passing and Kess perked up a bit. She began to point out places of interest and talk a little bit about what there was to do around Miami. "I haven't been here in over two years, so I'm sure a lot has changed. But you guys should definitely get out and see some things while you're here." "What about you? You don't want to come with us?" Finn thought she might at least get a chance to show them her old stomping grounds. Kess looked down at her hands. "I'm not sure. I mean, there's going to be a lot to do with the funeral and everything. And then there's all of the clan stuff. I don't want you all to be bored."

Finn highly doubted he'd be bored anywhere that had a beach and was going to tell her so when Cormac spoke. "We're not going to hare off and go sightseeing while you deal with this mess. That's not why we came. Right, Finn?" The look his cousin was giving him was pointed. Finn sighed. "Right, bud." He still planned on attempting to sneak in a little fun. He knew he had something to prove here, to everyone, including himself, but that didn't mean his first trip to South Beach had to be joyless. "I don't expect you guys to babysit me." She sounded annoyed. "There'll be enough of that with Bomani." "Fair enough," Finn answered. "No babysitting." Mac nodded. Kess sighed. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be so touchy. It's just being back here is so...weird." The trip continued on in silence. Finn continued to look out the window, staring at everything. Miami was a huge change from the mountains and he wasn't entirely sure if he liked it. The car was pulling into the circular drive of a sprawling mansion that overlooked the ocean. He spared a glance at Kess. She looked uncomfortable, fidgeting in her seat. Mac put a hand over hers to still them. Yep, this must be home. An older man was waiting for them beside the front doors. He was dressed in a black suit, presumably in mourning, although how he didn't spontaneously combust in this heat was beyond Finn. He thought the man looked vaguely familiar and looked at Kess for confirmation. She nodded. "That's Bomani." Finn nodded. That was one of the men who had come up to the mountains with Sek this past winter. He was the clan counselor--a sort of advisor, kind of like their pack's Beta. He was waiting for them to get out of the car. He looked like he could stand there for hours. "You ready?" Mac asked Kess. Kess ran her hands through her hair. "No. But it doesn't look like I have the option of waiting until I am, so we might as well go inside." She opened her door and stepped out. Finn let Cormac go first and then got out himself. The late afternoon heat hit him like a physical presence, as if a soaking wet elephant had decided to sit on his chest. He followed Kess and his cousin and tried not to melt. Bomani was greeting Kess and being reintroduced to their group. Finn eyed him warily. This was the guy that supported Sekhmet and stood by and watched while Sek carved up Mac. Finn didn’t trust him. The wereleopard ushered them into the house.

"I am sorry that you have to return under these circumstances," Bomani was saying to Kess as he led them through the house. "My deepest condolences." Kess frowned. Finn could tell the last thing she wanted was condolences. "What's left to be done?" "We've sent the body off to be cremated per your brother's instructions. I am assuming you want to have a memorial service for him, so that will still need to be arranged. And the jaguars are coming into town in a few days. They will need to be attended to." Bomani turned to Finn and Cormac. "You gentlemen will probably want to get settled. I can show you to..." "I'll take them to their rooms, Bomani. And then I'll join you in my brother's study." "Kess, I don't think that's a wise idea. That's where we found him." "I need to see it. I'll be with you in a few." Kess turned from the advisor and walked down the hall, obviously expecting Finn and Mac to follow. As she walked, she pointed out the important areas, like the kitchen, the TV room, and the way to the pool. She turned left down a side hallway and stopped in front of a closed door. "Finn, this one's yours." She opened the door to reveal a huge bedroom. "Your things will probably be unloaded in the foyer. Make yourself at home." Kess turned and walked farther down the hall. Again she stopped in front of a closed bedroom door. She put her hand on it, palm flat against the door. She closed her eyes for a moment. Finn wondered what the deal was. Her eyes opened and she seemed to come to some kind of decision. She left that door unopened and went to another across the hall. Mac asked her in a low voice, " Was that where he...." Kess nodded quickly. "I don't think I'm ready to see it yet. We'll stay in this one." She opened the door to another bedroom. It looked much the same as Finn's room. He wondered how many rooms the place had. "You guys get comfortable. I'm going to go meet with Bomani and figure out what the heck I'm supposed to be doing. I'll come find you when we're ready to meet, okay?" "You sure you don't want us there?" Kess shook her head. "Why should you and Finn have to sit through all of this? Go, enjoy yourselves. Swim, eat, do whatever you want. I'll be okay." She gave Mac a quick kiss on the mouth and then she was moving past them to go speak further with the clan counselor.

Finn looked at his cousin. Mac looked torn, as if he couldn't decide whether to go after her or do as she suggested. "She'll be fine, Mac. She can look out for herself." "I know she can." Still his cousin looked bothered by something. "What is it?" "I don't like any of this. There's something else going on here--something they haven't told us about. That's why I want to go with her." Finn met his cousin's gaze squarely. This was what he'd been sent down here for. Not for parties or hot girls or goofing off. If there was something going on here, it was his job to sniff it out and to protect his packmates at the same time. "So let's go get the lay of the land."

Chapter Fifteen Laila lazed on the sofa, idly flipping through channels on the television. She and Mebis had been cooped up in the guest cottage for most of the day, ever since Sek's body had been found. It wasn't house arrest—yet—but it was certainly making them easy to find. Laila had asked Mebis why they hadn't bugged out already; in most cases, Keepers didn't stick around after their assassinations unless orders dictated it. But when she asked Mebis if there was a second part to their mission here, he hadn't been very forthcoming with details, saying only that they needed to wait. Truth be told, Laila was getting nervous. She didn't like staying here. While she had no doubt she and Mebis could escape if they needed to, it didn't sit well with her to just keep hanging around at the scene of the crime. Her crime. It didn't matter that someone else had ordered it. She'd still been the one to do it. She felt like they were waiting around to get caught. And the more she sat, the more she thought about Sek. And killing him. She rolled over, trying to put it out of her mind. But the look in his eyes as he lunged at her stayed with her--that wild desolation, the desperation to be done with everything. She thought she glimpsed relief in his eyes when her knife punched into him. Had he wanted her to kill him? Had he made it easy for her? How messed up was that? She hadn't said anything to Mebis about what had happened; had just handed him the heart so he could enclose it in the canopic jar he carried with him. She had a feeling he suspected or knew anyway. Not much got past her brother. But he hadn't pressed her for information, content to let her tell him in her own time--if she ever did. She wondered how he'd gotten so composed and smart. He'd come a long way from the annoying older brother who used to pick on her when she was little. Then again, neither of them were so little anymore. Mebis strolled into the room, utterly unconcerned. "We've got some company." Laila sat up. "What kind?" Her brother gestured to the window. Laila could see two tall young men walking around the grounds. They would stop every few minutes as if they were searching for something, then the

dark haired one would take the lead again. He would walk a few feet, pause, and stand very still. It almost looked like he was trying to scent something. It put Laila's guard up. "Any idea who they are?" Mebis shook his head. He leaned his hip against the low bookcase underneath the window, his back to them. "I think they came with Sek's sister. She arrived a little while ago. Don't know who these two are. Perhaps we should introduce ourselves?" Laila grinned at her brother, forgetting momentarily that she was mad at him for keeping secrets. Anything was better than sitting around here any longer. "Sek's sister?" "Bomani called early this morning to give her the news." He didn't say how he knew this, but Laila wasn't surprised that he did. Since becoming a full-fledged Keeper, Mebis had all sorts of new skills and knowledge. She sometimes wondered if walking through walls was a skill taught to advanced members. "Have you seen her yet?" Laila was curious about Sek's sister. He'd seemed most sad about her and her leaving him. His last words came back to her. She wanted to see what kind of person Kess was. Mebis shook his head. "Just these two." "Let's go." Laila led the way out of the house. The two guys were halfway across the yard, moving away from them towards the back of the property. Again they stopped, the one in the lead looking like he was trying to scent something. Laila cocked her head, wondering who they were. They didn't resemble any of the wereleopards that she'd seen. Mebis took the lead. "Hey there!" He waited until the two turned around, then waved. Laila resisted the urge to roll her eyes. He even did geeky and friendly well. The dark haired one waved back, and the two began to walk towards them. Laila took a moment to size them up. Both young men moved easily over the ground. They were well-built, tall and muscular. They had a number of inches on Mebis and they'd tower over her. The one in the lead was darker and leaner than the other. The blond one was thicker, stockier. They looked strong, the kind of guys used to being out of doors that came by their builds from being outside, not the gym. Laila approved. She thought gym rats weren't terribly useful. All those muscles and no idea how to use them. "Hey," the blond said as they came up.

"I'm Mebis and this is Laila." He indicated her with a flip of his hand. "We're guests here." "Of Sekhmet's?" This from the dark haired guy. Mebis nodded. "And you are?" "I'm Cormac," said dark hair. "This is Finn." The blond nodded and gave Laila what he probably thought was a winning smile. "How long have you two been here?" "A few days. You guys just get in?" The one called Cormac nodded. "Yeah." There was an awkward silence. The blond--Finn--spoke up. "Were you friends of Sekhmet?" Laila caught the past tense. Stupid of him to use that, to give away that Sek had shuffled off his mortal coil, especially since these guys knew nothing about them. It was unlikely someone would catch it though. Still, it showed that they weren't professionals. That was good to know. Mebis answered. "Business associates actually. We were in town for a meeting with him." He paused, as if debating. "You said were. Past tense. Did something happen?" Laila caught the dark look that Cormac threw Finn. He said, "I think you two should come inside. Something's happened and there's someone you need to talk to." He turned and led the way back to the house. So it looked like Cormac was the leader of the duo. Laila eyed Finn, wondering where they'd come from. They certainly weren't native. Sek had never said where his sister was, so she couldn't hazard a good guess. Laila dropped back to walk beside her brother. "So?" "Hmmmm?" Mebis had a slight smile on his face. "What's so funny?" She pitched her voice low so the two in front of them wouldn't hear. "Things are about to get very interesting, pest. Aren't you glad we stayed?" Laila had to fight the urge to pummel her brother. Finn turned around, his eyes sweeping over her when he thought she wasn't looking. He saw that she noticed and he grinned at her, not apologetic in the slightest. Laila gritted her teeth and followed along, trying to ignore the chuckles from Mebis. Oh yes, she was freaking ecstatic that they'd stuck around.

Chapter Sixteen Samara was furious. And resentful. It was a cold rage, but she could feel it building, like sinus pressure against her eyelids. She tried to rein her emotions in, because she knew if she didn't, her head might explode from the stress. Or she might get one of those deep wrinkles in the center of her forehead. Neither was acceptable. She needed to save her anger for when it would be useful, or at least until she had an appropriate object to lash out at, but it was difficult. She'd felt sure that with Sekhmet's increasingly erratic behavior Miami would be hers very soon. Then he had to go and get himself killed—which was unfortunate only in that she hadn't had a hand in it—which brought his prodigal sister back to town. One of the maids within the house had just told her werehyena contact that Sekhmet had been killed sometime the previous evening. She'd been dismissed soon after. He'd dutifully reported it to Samara. Her other spy had relayed the news of Kess' impending of arrival directly to Samara. It was a setback for the werehyenas, no mistake. Samara had volumes of files on Sekhmet, accumulated over the last ten years, ever since it had looked like he would be Darius' successor. She had real life experience dealing with him that couldn't be gained from any dossier. His mental illness made him unpredictable, but he was a known adversary. His sister, Kess, was a wild card. She'd left before Samara had gathered any particularly useful information about her aside from the basics. And she had no personal experience of the girl. Samara would need to start her spying all over again and it would take a long time to build up the reserves of intel on Kess that she'd compiled on Sekhmet. Samara was tired of waiting. Her own territory was dismal. It was dirty, poor, low rent, and her pack was running out of game to hunt within the area and its surroundings. They'd grown too quickly and now they strained and surpassed the local natural resources. She'd been hungering after a true city for decades, tired of making do with the fringes. She deserved the authority over a large, powerful territory, and her pack needed the resources that Miami would provide. It was the way hyenas operated: they'd start with a small territory and grow quickly beyond its resources, reproducing rapidly. Hyenas had no trouble getting partners thanks to their looks,

so they tended to breed well and quickly. A were/were pairing wasn't guaranteed to produce were offspring, but hyenas were prolific and fertile enough that were/were pairings tended not to matter. When their numbers strained the borders of their territory, then they would go after a larger territory and still a larger one. It meant moving every few years or enlarging their current borders, but that was the way it went with them. Miami could satisfy them for decades. Her fingernails clicked up and down on the kitchen table. Samara thought over what little she knew about Sekhmet's sister. The girl had been gone for the past two years. What little rumor she could ferret out had it that her reason for leaving may have been Sekhmet himself. But she couldn't find much more out about the circumstances behind Kess' sudden departure. Samara didn't believe in putting too much stock in rumors, although they could be handy at times. Sometimes they could provide telling information in what wasn't being said just as much as in what was. That wasn't the case with Kess. Still, the girl was young. Only eighteen, and untried. And if she'd been away from Miami for so long, she would have no idea of the politics involved in running it, or of the alliances she would need to make to hold it. If Samara hoped to use the girl's greenness against her, she would have to move quickly. She didn't want to risk a full out assault, not yet, but testing the girl wouldn't hurt. She heard the front door open. Rafe skulked into the kitchen, stopping when he saw her sitting at the table. He obviously hadn't expected her to be home. Her son spent as much time as possible away from home, which suited Samara just fine. She didn't much care for her children, but Rafe was a constant source of irritation and disappointment. He was her youngest child, and male. She tolerated her children so long as they were useful, but Rafe wasn't particularly good for much besides keeping the house clean. He was weak and pathetic, hardly worth the food she let him have to keep himself alive. Teresa, at least, had proven herself valuable with her strength and cunning. Samara loved neither of her children; they were tools. If one of them became broken she could discard them and get another one. The perks of a large pack was that she could always find a replacement. Rafe stood there, indecisive as always, his backpack slung over his shoulder. He had probably been at the library, since it was where he spent most of his time when he wasn't at school. Samara recognized her son's intelligence, but didn't appreciate it. She'd found book learning to be a relatively useless skill.

Samara bit back a sneer, then pointedly ignored him, going back to her thoughts. But thinking about Miami just served to annoy her further. Rafe slipped past her to open the refrigerator and her anger crested. Here was a welcome outlet to unleash some of her temper on. Rafe had only gotten the door of the refrigerator halfway open when she slammed her bare foot against the metal door, jarring it out of his hand and holding it closed. Her son—how depressing that was to her—made a small noise in the back of his throat. It sounded like fear. Samara felt her lip curl up in disgust. Yes, he wasn't worth much. "What do you think you're doing?" His eyes flashed up to hers. So like his father's they were—a dusky topaz, like a hunting bird's. "I was getting a snack." His voice was uncertain and she despised him for it. Teresa would never have sounded such, but then again, Teresa was female. "What's the rule?" Her voice was quiet, but she saw Rafe pull into himself just a fraction. She liked that sense of power over him. "I have to earn my food." He looked around, clearly unsure of what he'd done wrong. "But I've done all of my chores." The rule had been established when Rafe was still a young boy, soon after his father had left. Females ruled the pack; as such, they required more food since they were larger and stronger than the males. If Rafe wanted to be fed, he had to earn his keep. If he wanted to eat, he had to pull his weight. Unfortunately for him, no matter how well he performed his duties, Teresa--and sometimes Samara--made sure it was never enough, so he was always underfed. Samara moved closer to him. He looked up at her. She grabbed his arm and dragged him over to the sink. A cereal bowl, spoon, and coffee cup sat against the steel basin. She didn't say anything. "That wasn't there when I left. The sink was empty, I swear. Teresa must have not cleaned up after her breakfast." She slapped him across the face, open-handed. It caught him off guard, but he knew better at this point than to cry out. It wasn't the worst he'd received from her by far. "Rules are rules, Rafe." Actually, they weren't. She got a certain thrill that came from playing with him, from changing the rules on him when the mood suited her. Today it suited her very much. "But I cleaned everything up. It's not my fault that Teresa..."

Samara had her hand on his throat in an instant. She hated the confrontational tone in his voice. Samara knew that Teresa had been the one to leave the dishes; she had seen her drop them in the sink and she chose to say nothing. It wasn't because Teresa was her favorite, although given the choice between her two children, she was. It was because Rafe needed to learn his place. She would have thought his scars would have taught him that, but he sometimes needed a reminder. She pushed him back against the sink, using her considerable strength to hold him. He was sixteen and almost as tall as she was, but he was not her match yet. He would never be. Males never were. Now, Teresa, she'd bear watching. She was ruthless and cunning and strong. But Rafe, he was just a tragedy. She tightened her grip, happy when she saw his eyes widen in fear and panic splash across his face. "Are you disagreeing with me?" Her voice was cold. He was barely able to shake his head, but that's all she allowed him since she was choking off his voice. She released her hold on him so suddenly, he staggered. His breathing was shallow with fear. He would never attack her. She wasn't worried about him ever retaliating; he'd been trained since birth that males were not equal to females. Teresa had been a particular vicious instructor. "Get out of my sight." Her face was inches from his. She could read the fear in his eyes. Her gaze moved down to the three white scars on the side of his face. Then she lightly touched one finger to them before sliding away from him. Rafe backed away quickly from the kitchen, hand cradling his scarred cheek. She often wondered why he couldn't have just died as a baby. She hadn't really bothered with him, but his father had cared for him when she hadn't. As far as she was concerned, Teresa was the only child of hers who mattered. Samara sat back at the table, resuming her finger drumming. Still Rafe might be useful one day. Her fingers stopped mid-way. She wondered if he might be worth sending to Miami. Why couldn't she send Rafe? And why shouldn't she go herself, if only to pay her respects to poor, dead Sekhmet and the new wereleopard clan leader? It would give her an important opportunity to study her new rival, to get a feel for her weaknesses and strengths. It would also enable her to get a look at these new players that she'd heard so much about. Rafe could serve as a distraction

while she did the actual work. And if he didn't come back, at least she wouldn't have to deal with the disappointment when she looked at him anymore.

Chapter Seventeen Kess had been brief when she told Mebis and Laila of Sek's sudden death. Finn had been impressed with the way she handled herself and her guests, asking them to bear with her while she familiarized herself with clan business. She'd been professional, if that was the right word, and composed. Finn knew she was upset over her brother's death, but she was doing her best not to show how rattled she was to be back. In his opinion, she was keeping it together pretty well. Mebis had been pretty easy-going about everything, while the girl had just seemed bored. Finn had noticed that Laila had given Kess a look as though she was sizing the wereleopard up, but he thought he might be getting paranoid. For her part, Kess ignored Laila, offering a meeting for later in the evening, and Mebis had happily agreed. Kess had told Finn and Cormac, once the dynamic duo had left, that it was probably one of them who had murdered Sek. She wanted to keep them close and try to figure out exactly what had happened the night of her brother's death. Whatever she'd found in Sek's office must have been pretty interesting. Finn wasn't sure why Kess wanted to bother with all of this. Wasn't Sek's death a relief? Why try and figure out what had happened or who was responsible? Why not just accept that fate had finally caught up with Sekhmet and leave it at that? The universe did her a solid—why look further than that? But even if Finn didn’t understand her, he had still agreed to keep an eye out for strange behavior during the meeting. This was how he found himself skirting the edges of the large room, trying to keep from prowling with limited success. He hated being still with this much tension in the air. A knife wouldn’t be able to do the job; he’d need a Husquvarna chainsaw to do the trick. Kess stood with her head bowed, listening to a report from Bomani. Cormac flanked her, eyeing Mebis and Laila who lounged on the sofa. If they felt the tension, they were ignoring it. The girl flipped through a magazine as if she were waiting in a doctor’s office and not called before the new leader of a bunch of touchy wereleopards. She caught Finn looking at her and she raised her eyebrows at him, as if daring him to say something. When he didn’t, she went back to her magazine. The only outward sign of her

discomfort was her foot jiggling up and down. At one point, Mebis put his hand on her knee to still her foot. Finn was trying to pay attention to all of the clan business but thought it might be better if Kess just cut to the chase. If she wanted to know if Laila or Mebis had anything to do with Sek's death, she should just come right out and ask them. Not that they'd answer her honestly, probably, but at least then it would be on the table and he could maybe go get something to eat. Kess spoke up. “Mebis?” At this, he stood up and inclined his head towards her. “I’d like your version of events, please. Did you hear or see anything last night?” “There’s not much to tell. My sister and I were resting in our rooms in the cottage when the attack apparently occurred. We didn’t hear or see anything that happened in the house. Wish we could be of more help.” “Laila? Do you have anything to add?” Laila, her face obscured by her long, dark hair, looked up from her magazine. “Nope. Fast asleep, didn’t hear a thing.” The look she gave Kess was one of dismissal, as if she had sized her up and found her lacking in some way. It was barely short of disrespectful and Finn thought it was pretty bold considering they were basically under suspicion of murder. Mebis spoke next, a smile on his face. “We are sorry for your loss, and we're happy to do anything we can to help, but it certainly feels something like an inquisition in here. If you suspect us in some way for Sekhmet's death, then perhaps you should say so." "I'm trying to determine what happened on the night of my brother's death. That's all. I'm also trying to figure out exactly why you two were invited here in the first place. Bomani wasn't told why you were meeting with my brother." "If Sekhmet chose not to share his personal business with his advisor, what am I to do about it? I will happily share what we spoke about with the next clan leader. In private." Finn bristled at Mebis' words. Yeah, there was no way Kess was meeting with this guy alone, especially if he was already a suspect in one murder. Finn snuck a sidelong glance at his cousin. Cormac looked one inch away from ripping the guy's head off. Kess opened her mouth to speak, but the door swung open. One of Kess' wereleopard guards quickly crossed to Bomani and began to speak in quick, low tones with the clan’s advisor. Finn looked where he came from and standing in the doorway was possibly the most stunning woman he had ever seen.

“Ah, Samara,” Bomani said, greeting the newcomer. “I should have known you’d be here quickly.” The woman was tall, about six feet, not quite as tall as Finn was. Dark red hair flowed in waves that stopped in the middle of her back. She was slender and her figure was on display in an outfit tight enough to garner the optimum amount of male interest. Her eyes flashed blue under heavily made up lashes. Pale skin stood out in stark contrast to the rest of the group. Finn thought she wouldn’t look out of place on a Sports Illustrated swimsuit cover or hanging around with supermodels as gorgeous as she was, even though she had to be somewhere in her late thirties. Total MILF. She made Kess and the women in his family look homely by comparison. “Where else would I be when I heard what happened? I had to come right away.” “To do what? Fight over the bones?” Finn jerked his eyes away from Samara at the ice in Kess' voice. He watched the two women, curious as to what it was between them. Samara turned to Kess, giving her the full force of her gaze. Kess didn’t back down, meeting it with a glare of her own. Finn had no clue what the hell was going on, but the tension ratcheted up another five notches, if that were even possible. “I understand you are deeply disturbed,” Samara purred, walking into the room. Finn was caught by the sight of it. If Kess slunk, then Samara rolled, her gait oddly hitching with each step. It was unpleasant to watch, especially when the rest of her was so attractive. Kess sucked in her breath at the veiled insult. Before Kess could respond, Samara added, "By the death of your brother, of course." Finn had never seen Kess snarl in human form, but he saw her do so now. It reminded him distinctly of the big black leopard she turned into when there was no moon in the sky. Samara stopped, eyeing Kess carefully, as if gauging how close she could come to another insult before she was thrown out. Finn risked a glance at Laila and Mebis; they too looked fascinated with the proceedings. He turned his attention back to Kess. Cormac had moved behind and to the left of Kess, every line of his body taut. Bomani was to her right. Finn thought about moving to back his cousin up, but thought his position here was more advantageous. He had a view of the entire room and everyone in it. He'd be able to take out Mebis and Laila with ease if they made a move.

"I merely wished to offer my condolences," Samara said, staying well out of reach of the wereleopards. "Accepted," Kess said, the word sounding clipped and strained. "Having expressed them, I expect you'll be leaving." "On the contrary, I had expected to stay for the funeral at the very least." Samara smiled, and suddenly Finn didn't find her beauty nearly so appealing. "A pity Sek never held one for your father. But then, I heard there wasn't much left of Darius once your brother was finished with him." Finn saw Kess grow pale, then heard a low growl that began to grow in volume. He realized all three wereleopards were facing Samara and they were making that noise. He'd never thought of Kess as threatening before, but now he wasn't so sure. He saw Cormac reach for Kess' arm and realized that her eyes were beginning to shift toward leopard. He kept his eyes on Mebis and Laila. He wasn't sure which way they'd jump in a fight and didn't want to be surprised in case they decided to throw in with Samara, whatever the hell she was. It was Mebis who inserted himself into the breach. "I think it best if we retire to our rooms and leave this talk for the morning. Laila?" He gestured for the door. That broke the spell. Mebis and Laila took their leave, saying they would be available for any further questions in the morning. Samara stated she was staying at a hotel nearby and would look forward to hearing from them with details of the arrangements for Sek. She asked leave to bring in her entourage, which was granted with the warning that only one other of her pack members could join her in Miami. "If any uninvited guests should think it worth the risk to attend, I strongly suggest you advise them against it," Kess warned quietly. Samara turned and raised an elegant brow. Kess did not return it, but merely stated, "I would hate to have to return such interlopers to their home territory in a box. Or five." Bomani and the other wereleopard followed Samara out. Before he left, Bomani promised he would meet with Kess in the morning after everyone had a chance to get some rest. Kess nodded and walked him to the door. She closed the door behind him, and then it was just the three of them. Finn took a seat in the big leather chair. He thought about turning on the huge flat panel television so he could watch something mindless but figured he should pay attention. His father

would be calling for an update and he'd compare notes with Alaric who'd be talking to Cormac. Finn needed to have some useful observations to share in order to justify his being here instead of Burke. Kess leaned her head against the door before turning around to face them. Cormac watched her quietly, so attuned to her that he was practically vibrating. Finn realized he wouldn't want to be in her position for all the hot co-eds on the eastern seaboard. "Welcome to Miami," was all she said, then she began to pace the room. They gave her a few minutes, then Cormac said, "Kess, it's your call." She stopped and gifted them with a tired smile. "Yeah, my call. If only I had any idea what that should be." "What do you want to do?" Finn asked. That was how he usually approached things; figure out what he wanted to do, the outcome he desired, and do it. He wasn't big on planning. "Honestly?" She ran a hand through her hair. "Get the hell out of here and never look back." "So? What's stopping you?" Finn didn't understand why it had to be so complicated. If you wanted to leave, then you left. Kess looked at them both, eyes measuring. She stopped and started several times before she finally said, "I don't know. I just feel like I have to do something." Cormac answered her in a soft voice. "None of this is your fault." Kess shook her head. "I know that. That's not what I mean anyway. It's more like I have a responsibility to something rather than for something." She headed over to Cormac, wrapping her arms around him, which was something she hardly ever did. Finn knew Kess didn't usually initiate physical touch, especially not in front of other people. "At the very least, I need to find out what happened to Sek. And who was responsible." Finn saw his cousin stiffen. He couldn't blame him. Cormac still bore a network of scars on his chest and back from when Sek went after him with a silver knife. And that wasn't even counting what Sek had put Kess through. Finn thought that his cousin was handling everything pretty well, considering how much it must be driving him nuts that Sek was still managing to be a colossal problem even from beyond the grave. "What do we know?" he asked. "I was a little busy scoping the room, so I may have missed some of the details." "And scoping Samara, let's not forget." Cormac knew Finn very well.

"Hell yeah. How can you not scope that out? Who is she?" Kess made a face like she'd tasted something sour. "Werehyena. She's the head of a pack a little farther north." "Really? Werehyena? I would have thought they'd look...different," Finn said, shocked. He never had cause to meet a werehyena and didn’t know much about them, but nothing he’d ever heard had mentioned them being drop dead gorgeous. Cormac laughed. "Not so hot now, is she?" Finn shrugged. “Until she walked, she was off the charts. But watching her move…,” he trailed off, not sure how to explain it. There was something deeply unsettling about her. Samara was still a stunner, but it also explained the discomfort you got from watching her for too long. There was something strangely off about her beauty. Cormac nodded, then turned back to Kess. “What’s her deal?” Kess continued. "She's been sniffing around our borders for years. I would hear father and Sek talk about her when I was still in the house. Bomani filled me in when I got here about what’s been going on. It wouldn’t surprise me if she put a hit out on Sek. She's coveted Miami for a long time. Maybe she thought she'd take a chance. She sure got here awfully fast." “Could she have done it herself?” Cormac plopped onto the couch, motioning for Kess to join him. Kess slid next to Cormac. “The smell’s wrong. Werehyenas have a…let’s say pungent… aroma. And we know what she smells like in human form already. If Samara had been lurking around the house, we’d know about it.” She pulled her hair forward, finger-combing the long strands. “And Sek would have had her killed as soon as he saw her. Bomani said they loathed each other.” Finn leaned back in the chair. "What about someone from her pack?" Kess shook her head. "Not likely." Cormac sighed. “Scents tell them anything else?” “Bomani said that Sek was having meetings so we got a number of scents from the study.” Kess looked down at her hands. “There was too much blood to get a clear scent off of him.” Finn watched Cormac pull her closer, offering her comfort which she didn’t seem inclined to take. She didn’t melt into him, but held herself stiffly. His cousin asked, “Anything to go on?”

“Could have been someone in the clan, but I doubt it. If they’d wanted Sek’s position, they would have to challenge him and beat him. Killing him without witnesses doesn’t gain them anything. More likely it was Mebis or Laila.” “Seriously? Laila? That little thing?” Finn couldn’t keep the surprise from his voice. “Their scents were found coming and going from the office. Sek also met with both of them earlier in the day so that might explain it, but I’m not ruling anybody out yet.” “I find it hard to believe that Laila could kill a full grown wereleopard in either form,” Finn snorted. “How’d he die, anyway?” Finn had been wanting to know all day. He’d gotten bits and pieces but thought that the details of the death might help them figure out who was behind this. Plus he was curious. “Dude,” Cormac chided. “Do you think about the words that come out of your mouth?” Finn had had enough. He was always the butt of the jokes, always the screw-up either saying or doing the wrong thing. And he was tired of Mac always protecting Kess against whatever life threw at her. Finn knew about her history and had watched her on the night that she’d fought and beaten her brother. Kess was no fragile flower and it was time Mac accepted that. “Yeah, Mac, I do. And maybe you should think about the mess we’ve walked into. We’ve got a dead clan leader, a house full of folks who could have done it, no real leads, and no idea if we could be next. So your girlfriend might want to make with the details if it could help us figure out what the hell is going on. If she wants to fall apart, she can do it after we’ve figured this out, okay?” Cormac was on his feet, squaring off, and Finn thought he might have to swing at his cousin, when Kess spoke. Her voice was hard, like a diamond, all sharp angles and splintery facets. “Finn’s right, Cormac. It’s cool.” His cousin growled low in the back of his throat and Finn knew it was anything but cool. Mac would probably have something to say to him later, but after another blistering glare, he subsided back on the couch. Kess put her hand on his forearm, but didn’t take her eyes off of Finn. “When Bomani found my brother it was early in the morning. Sek was laid out on the floor of his office.” Kess’ green-gold eyes were boring into his brown, but her voice was quiet. All of the intensity was in her gaze, like a challenge. It said, you wanted it jackass, so here you go.

“Blood was everywhere. It looked like he’d been stabbed once. And then whoever killed him removed his heart.” “Like ripped open his chest?” Finn felt his lip curl in disgust. “No, like sliced him open under his ribs and went up that way. Bomani thinks he was dead when his heart was removed.” Kess’ face was expressionless. “How nice of them,” Finn remarked snidely. “Finn!” Cormac snapped. “ANYWAY,” Kess continued, getting up to pace the floor. “There was nothing left to do. Bomani called one of our guys at the hospital to pronounce it and then he had the body removed for preparation.” “One question—where’s the heart?” Finn looked at Kess who looked back and raised her eyebrows. He looked at Cormac who shook his head. Finn threw his hands up. Kess and Cormac wore similar looks of disgust. This was beyond gross. Someone was hiding that heart somewhere. Kess shrugged. “Not in the office. Bomani had it searched.” “And are you sure he can be trusted?” This from Cormac who had decided to stop getting his panties in a bunch and start thinking like a proper Alpha. Finn was glad his cousin had finally come around. “As much as I trust anyone outside this room, yeah. He’s loyal to the clan, first and foremost.” Cormac leaned his head back, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Come on, Kess. Loyal to the clan is different than loyal to Sek. We both know he’d asked you to come back and take the clan from your brother. He came for that visit months ago to ask. If he thought Sek wasn’t good for the clan any longer, you think he wouldn’t do something drastic?” Kess looked uncertain. “He wouldn’t strike at Sek himself.” “But hiring someone—that he would do?” “I don’t know. I don’t think so.” But Kess looked doubtful. “Then we can’t rule him out either.” Cormac got up and went to the windows that overlooked the water. “We’re going to need whatever information he has, but we’re also going to have to do our own search.” “For the heart?” Finn had to admit that it would be cool.

Cormac nodded. “And who knows what else we’ll find. The two biggest suspects for the actual murder are Mebis and Laila. They’re the ones we know the least about.” “They’re werejackals,” Kess offered. “Bomani told me Sek invited Mebis to Miami for a business meeting. He didn’t know any more than that. Maybe an alliance or something. I’m not exactly sure where they fit in.” “Anybody know anything about werejackals?” Cormac asked. When nobody answered, he said, “Then we need to call the pack. I guarantee my dad and Griff can dig up something on them.” “Sek’s library. And his office. There may be something in either of those that can tell us what is going on,” Kess added. “If Bomani hasn’t cleaned them out,” Finn warned. “I highly doubt Bomani had anything to do with this. Anything that throws the clan into upheaval is not something he’d want. It makes us too vulnerable. He wanted me to come back and take over from Sek without anybody being killed. Why would he make that offer and then do all of this?” Again doubt crept into her voice. “Maybe you were taking too long,” Finn speculated. Mac nodded, backing him up. “Yeah, babe. He could have gotten tired of waiting. Sek’s death was bound to bring you home. At least for a little while.” Kess stared at them, chewing on her lower lip. It was clear she didn't want to believe them about Bomani possibly masterminding the whole thing, but at least she wasn't dismissing it. She joined Cormac at the window. "Fine, so we don't rule out Bomani either." She gave each of them a measured look. "I should be the one to look through Sek's office--it will look like I'm planning to take over the clan and maybe relax Bomani if he is the one pulling the strings." "I’ll call my dad—see what he knows about werejackals. I’ll check Sek’s library too.” “What about me?” Finn asked. He was glad that Mac had taken the research. He wasn’t interested or particularly good at things like that. Just ask his father. “You can shadow Mebis and Laila,” Mac said, a slow grin spreading across his face. Finn returned it. Trust his cousin to put him someplace where his talent with women would do the most good. “Just keep an eye on them,” Kess warned. “You don’t need to get all covert ops about it.” But the look Cormac gave him said he should do just that if Mebis and Laila got funny.

Chapter Eighteen Laila crossed the grass, a towel draped over her shoulder. A sliver of the moon hung overhead, but the heat was still oppressive. This was high summer in the tropics where even darkness brought little relief. Rather than sit inside her cottage and brood, or stare at Mebis in silence, she decided that a swim was in order. Might as well do something to burn off the excess energy that sitting around all day being questioned caused. And she was a more than a little pissed at her brother. The shade he'd had he dye her hair was the same shade as Kess'. As soon as she saw Kess, Laila knew what Mebis had been going for. He could have at least told her that he was trying to use her to remind Sek of his sister. She was tired of feeling like she was being kept in the dark about everything. A few lights were on in the main house. Laila expected they’d be on for a good long time. Kess was probably in conferences with Bomani and those two slabs of beef she brought with her. At the thought of the female wereleopard, her lip curled. Laila’d disliked Kess from the moment she’d seen her. Flanked by those two behemoths, she was everything Laila had come to despise in girls. Probably too much of a princess to be much use to anyone. Certainly couldn’t hold her own in a fight—that’s probably why she traveled with the two redwoods. Laila couldn’t figure out why Sek’s last words had been an apology to his sister. Here was a girl who had abandoned her family, who’d run out on them. Whatever had happened couldn’t have been so bad that Kess had to abandon her family. She was pretty, sure, but she wasn’t loyal. You didn’t just cut and run on your family. She thought of her relationship with Mebis and couldn't believe there'd be something that would ever break the bond between them. Even though Sek had told her that he hadn’t always been kind, Laila found it hard to believe that he would have done something so horrible that would make Kess run from him. She dropped her towel on a lounge chair and did a running dive into the deep end of the pool. She skimmed along the bottom like a fish, then surfaced to find one of the guys who came with Kess—Finn was his name—sitting in a chair near her towel. She bobbed in the water, waiting for him to say something.

When he sat looking up at the stars for several minutes, Laila got impatient. “What are you doing out here—spying on me?” “Yeah.” Laila hadn’t been expecting him to admit it, even if they both knew it was true. She took a closer look at him, assessing with different eyes. He was tall, over six feet, but broad chested. He could probably bench press her and Mebis combined. Dark blond hair, cut short. A handsome face with rugged features, usually clean shaven, although he had some stubble now after his long day of dealing with clan stuff. He was wearing jeans and a white t-shirt and looked like he might melt at any moment. There was a kind of wily intelligence about him. He didn’t strike her as the type to be book smart; rather he listened to his instincts. Led with them. Laila filed that away for future reference. “Aren’t you hot?” “Yeah,” he said, finally looking at her. “It’s like Hell down here.” “Well, why are you wearing that?” He shrugged. “Didn’t have time to really pack, you know? And I don’t have anything for this kind of weather.” “Come on in. I’m not going to drown you.” At her comment, Finn snorted, and it sounded like he was dismissing her, as if saying a little girl like you couldn’t possibly drown big strong me. Laila stiffened. Oh, she’d love to show him exactly what she could do to a big strong man like him, none of it enjoyable for him. Finn stood and began stripping off his clothes. Laila tried not to stare as more flesh was unveiled, but it was very nice flesh. She turned away though when he hooked his hand into the waistband of his boxers. There was admiring and then there was ogling and Laila knew the difference. You didn’t grow up in a household where people stripped nude to turn into animals at the drop of a hat without learning a little thing called politeness. Modesty, however, was not in Laila’s vocabulary. She turned around when she heard the splash as Finn jumped in the water. He stayed at his end of the pool but heaved a blissful sigh as the water hit overheated skin. “That’s great,” he breathed. “No wonder everyone has pools down here. They’re for their own survival.” “Where are you from?” Might as well see what information she could get out of this one.

“Up north. Mountains. Nothing like here.” He ducked his head under the water and came back up again. “You?” “New Orleans.” That was common knowledge so she wasn’t giving away anything she shouldn’t. “Cool. You’re a werejackal, right?” Laila tried to play it cool. They hadn’t advertised that around—she wasn’t sure how many people within the wereleopard clan knew what they were, or who Sek might have told. "Mmmmhhhmmm." She treaded water for a minute before ducking under to get away from the uncomfortable silence. "So, I'm assuming you're one of Kess' clan, right? One of her bodyguards?" Laila asked when she came up for air. She was just throwing stuff out there to see what stuck. "Assumption incorrect." He grinned. "On both counts. Kess can take care of herself." Laila rolled her eyes at that statement. Kess wouldn't last five minutes without a man to protect her. Finn's grin got even wider, but she chose to ignore it. "Okay, so not her bodyguard. What about the other guy? He sure looks like he wants to guard her body, if you get what I'm saying." Finn laughed. "He's her boyfriend. He's the only one allowed to guard her body, if you get what I'm saying." He swam a little closer to her. "But you aren't part of her clan?" At his head shake, she asked, "So what are you?" "Who says I'm anything? I'm just a friend of Kess'." "Who knows about weres? Highly unlikely that you're just an anything." She closed in. They were within touching distance now. "How much would you like to find out?" Finn was smiling at her and she noticed he had dimples. "Are you flirting with me? Aren't you supposed to be spying on me?" Cute dimples or not, she couldn't afford distraction. "The two aren't mutually exclusive." He paused, thinking. "But if you want to be that way, no skin off my nose." He swam to the other end of the pool, his long arms covering the distance in a few seconds. Laila meandered back over to the deep end. She wasn't exactly sure what she should be doing. Her assignment was complete. She'd killed Sek. But Mebis had insisted they stick around, especially once he found out that Sek's

sister was flying back into town. Why? She hadn't seen him call anyone to get new orders, but that didn't mean he hadn't. They weren't constantly in each other's presence; heck, he might even be talking to one of the Guards right now. Laila hated feeling like she was being kept in the dark. First the subterfuge about her real purpose here, then the assassination, and now this hanging around for no good reason. If Mebis had received further instructions it sure would be nice if he'd share them with her. She scowled. Her brother had no reason to lie to her, did he? "Hey," Finn called out from his side of the pool. "You know anything about that Samara woman?" Laila tilted her head to the side, shaking water from her ear. She had no idea who Samara was; she had been just as surprised as everyone else when the woman had walked into the room and started posturing. If possible, she liked her even less than she liked Kess. There was something so beyond predatory in her gaze and demeanor. Cruel, maybe. Keepers may be killers, but they had a reason for it, and it wasn't just the money. They had a sworn calling to uphold. Samara was something else altogether. "No. I'd never seen her before tonight. You?" "She's trouble, that's about all I know. But you can tell that just by looking at her." Laila raised her eyebrows. Finn wasn't as clueless as he pretended--the wide-eyed country boy thing might really be for show. People like Samara tended to walk around with TROUBLE in large neon letters above their heads. You had to be blind to miss it, but with someone that beautiful it was often overlooked until it was too late. "I think it is safe to say that the leopards aren't real fond of her." Finn swam to the middle of the pool. "I don't think anyone is, except maybe her pack." "What, she's a wolf?" "Hell no!" Finn sounded offended. "Hyena." Laila's mouth screwed up in distaste. Lovely. Hyenas. That might explain what they were still doing here. If hyenas were involved, especially in a territory dispute, the Keepers were right to be cautious. Hyenas had a tendency to poison wherever they lived. Packs couldn't stay in one place for long periods of time because they never took care of their territories, instead letting everything go to rot and ruin while they hunted and fought. And if Samara wanted Miami...well, it seemed to Laila that werepigs would fly before the Keepers would let her have it.

"Know anything about them?” he asked. “Hyenas, I mean." Laila thought for a minute. Finn could be trying to get information from her, or he could already know a good deal about hyenas and was testing her to see how much she knew. She decided to tell him a little about what she knew and gauge his reaction. "Never met one before, but I've heard about them." She swam to the middle of the pool, facing him. "They don't really manage their territories so much as run amok in them. Pretty vicious too, from what I've heard." Finn nodded. "That's about right. Scavengers too. Makes sense she'd come sniffing around now that there's a body. Wants to see what use she can put it to. That's if she didn't do it herself." "You think she killed Sekhmet?" Laila was surprised they were that far off the mark. Finn shrugged. "Or hired someone to. From what I hear, she and Sek weren't on the best of terms. I don't think she would have been able to take down Sek on her own." "Why, because she's a woman?" Laila didn't like where this conversation was heading. She might need to kick Finn's ass just on general principles. "No, because she's Samara. She wouldn't have gotten within a hundred feet of him, or so I've been told." "Interesting," Laila kicked her legs behind her. "Isn't it just," Finn said, staring at her. His brown eyes glittered in the light cast from the lamp by the house. "You wouldn't happen to have any ideas about who did it, would you Laila?" Laila met his gaze with a fierce one of her own. Before she could say anything, she heard Mebis' voice from the side of the pool. "Laila," he called, holding her towel. "I think it's time you said good night." Laila cringed, hating the way he said it. It made her sound like a child being called to bed. She wanted to hang back to make a point, but Mebis gave her a look. He had something to tell her. She got out and took the towel from him, wrapping it around her body. To save a bit of her wounded pride, she said to Finn, "We're staying in that cottage right there, across the lawn. Makes us pretty easy to spy on, so you don't have to strain yourself." "Hadn't planned on it," Finn shot back as she walked away.

Chapter Nineteen Finn levered himself up off of the strange bed with a grumble, resisting the urge to fling his beeping phone across the room. He'd set the alarm so he, Cormac, and Kess would get a chance to go over anything they found out last night before the events of the day got away from them. There was still a lot for Kess to do before they left for North Carolina. He'd gotten to bed sometime around the three a.m. mark. He glared blearily at his phone to find it was just shy of ten a.m. Biting back a groan, he stumbled into the bathroom for a quick shower, hoping the water would wake him up. When he was dried and dressed, he went to find his cousin. Cormac was in the kitchen, whipping up a batch of scrambled eggs, bacon, ham and toast. Finn grabbed a mug of coffee—it was strong so he knew Mac had made it—and waited for his cousin to finish cooking. "Where's Kess? Sleeping?" Mac shook his head. "She's been up for hours already. She's in the library, going over paperwork. I figured we'd all eat in there." He lowered his voice. "We found some stuff out last night." Finn nodded, anxious to hear what they'd discovered but knowing it was better to wait until they had more privacy. He accepted the plates of food that Mac handed him and they set off down the hall to the library. The door was closed. Mac knocked once then went in. Finn kicked the door closed once he was inside. Kess was perched on the arm of a chair, feet in the seat of it. A stack of files and books were also piled in the seat. Her head was bent as she scanned a bunch of papers in her hands, her profile obscured by strands of dark hair that had come loose from her ponytail. She finished the page she was skimming and joined them to help with the food. "Thanks," she said to Mac, rubbing her shoulder up against his side in affection. Finn could see the puffy, dark circles under her eyes, and wondered if she'd been able to get any sleep at all. He snapped a piece of bacon in half. "So what did you guys find out?" Kess took a sip from her mug, gesturing for Mac to start. They all arrayed themselves around the room in various stages of comfort and then Mac began. "I talked to my dad last night.

I told him what we'd found out about Sek's death—the missing heart—and everything we know about Mebis and Laila. He thinks they might be part of an organization called the Keepers of Divine Order." "Who in the what now?" Finn looked at Kess to see if she was as confused as he was, but she seemed to be following along. "The Keepers—they're kind of like were-trashmen. They do the dirty jobs that no one else wants to do. Dad told me that they've got a ton of nicknames, but they're mostly referred to as the Eaters of the Dead. It was the heart that reminded him." "Scavengers." "Like hyenas," Kess offered, her eyes dark. Mac nodded. "The Keepers have always been werejackals though—at least according to what my dad knows. He said there are ways to get in touch with them for those in the know. You can try to hire them, but they'll choose whether or not to take your offer on an individual basis. There's no guarantee they'll work for you." "Does your dad know how to contact them?" Mac turned his body to look at his girlfriend before he answered. "He didn't say." Kess didn't press the issue and Mac didn't say why he hadn't asked. Finn had an idea that none of them wanted to know if Alaric could contact them. "Keep going," Kess prompted. Cormac took a bite of food before he continued. "Dad's heard stories about them—how they keep the weres in check, making sure that nobody gets too out of hand. He said they don't get involved in territorial disputes although one or two tales suggest they will take matters into their own hands if it looks like territorial brawling will cause the wrong kind of attention." "Sound like anywhere we know?" Finn tried to lighten the mood, but didn't get far. Both Kess and Mac looked grim. "What do they do then?" Mac played with a piece of toast. "Dad said what he'd heard is that they removed the…um… problems. Permanently." Finn waited a few minutes for Kess or Mac to speak. When they didn't, he stepped in. "So we were on the right track. Either Mebis or Laila killed Sek." "If they are here to clean house, why aren't they going after Samara?" Mac asked. "We don't know that they aren't. They may not be the only team dispatched." Kess put her half-empty plate down on the desk and began to pace.

"We're jumping to a lot of conclusions here," Mac warned, ever the voice of reason. "Did you dad have anything else?" "Not much. The usual: be careful, watch your backs, Alpha warning stuff." Mac smiled at Kess. "What have you found, babe?" Kess raked the stray hairs out of her face. "Besides a ton of papers to go through? Not much yet. I've been all over Sek's office and couldn't find any sign of the heart. I went through his address book and letters and email but came up with nothing. There's still a bunch of files to go through," she indicated the stack on the chair, "but so far it's just a bunch of clan appointments, receipts, notifications—that kind of thing." She frowned sourly. "I did find the bills from all of the private investigators he hired to find me. That was a thrill." "Nothing on werejackals or Keepers or what they’re doing here?" Finn polished off his food and glanced at Kess' plate. "You going to eat that?" She waved for him to have it. "Just a meeting in his book. And an email invitation for them to come here to discuss business. Nothing that we didn't already know." "Anything turn up on Samara?" Cormac got up to look at the files. Kess pointed to a set of thick file folders perched on the ottoman beside the chair. "A dossier on her and all known pack members. I've been going through that one slowly—there's a lot of good information in there. Some of it's from when my father was alive." She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and looked down for a moment. Finn saw Mac slip his hand in hers and give it a squeeze. He looked away, not wanting to intrude on what felt like a private moment. He didn't look back until he heard Kess speak. "One thing bothers me though. Everything is too neat." "What do you mean?" Finn sat up straighter. "Like everything in Sek's office was put away just so. All of his email was answered, everything filed. Nothing was half-done like it would be if…you know." Mac put down the file he was flipping through. "Maybe he was just a neat person. He kind of seemed like a control freak from what you've told me." Kess frowned. "Not like this. His affairs were in left order. I called the family lawyer this morning and he practically had everything wrapped up for me in a neat little bow!"

"Isn't that the point of lawyers?" Finn asked. "And let's face it, his job wasn't one that comes with a long life span." He saw Cormac flinch and mentally kicked himself. Sek's job was now Kess' job, if she wanted it. She made an aggravated noise in the back of her throat. "I can't explain it. Sure, Sek was neat and yes, a control freak, but this is different. It's like…" she trailed off, looking at the two of them. "Like he was expecting it?" Cormac wrapped his arm around her. "He had to be with Samara gunning for him." "I sound crazy, don't I?" She leaned her forehead against his chest. "Just tired. And stressed. And like you want answers." He looked over at Finn. "Did you find out anything from Laila or Mebis?" Finn shrugged his shoulders, remembering his conversation with Laila in the pool. "Not much. She and Mebis are werejackals from New Orleans, which we knew. I asked her about Samara, but she said she didn't know anything about her, if you want to believe that. And she doesn't really care for you a whole lot, Kess." The wereleopard made a face. "Mutual." Finn laughed. "I figured I'd keep an eye on them today unless you all need me to help in here?" "I think we're good." Kess turned to Cormac. "Bomani told me we're going to have a couple of werejaguars come in tonight for the memorial. So we'll have more people to worry about." "Terrific." Mac pressed a kiss to the top of Kess' head. "I've still got to hunt through this library. You going to be in here?" She nodded. "Will I bother you if I poke around?" Kess smiled up at him. "Not even a little." Finn spoke up. He hadn't wanted to get back to this, but something was bothering him. "So we all pretty much agree that Mebis or Laila killed Sek, right?" At their cautious nods, he continued. "Then I've got one question. Why are Laila and Mebis still hanging around if the job is done? It doesn't make sense." "Who said the job is done?" Cormac answered. "But your dad said that they take out the people causing the problem. Why would they stick around? Unless…" "Samara is still alive," Mac pointed out.

"And so am I." Kess walked away from Cormac. "If the Keepers are behind Sek's death, then they'll make sure the problem is completely resolved before they leave." Finn looked at her like she was crazy. He looked over at his cousin, who had a worried look on his face. If Kess thought they might not stop at just Sek, why was she even in town? "They were able to kill your brother in his own home! Why are you even letting them stay here?" "And run the risk of not knowing where they are or what they are doing while they're in Miami?" Kess shook her head. "At least here I can keep an eye on them." "Then you leave," Finn urged. He wondered why his cousin wasn't saying anything. Kess was his girlfriend after all. Mac was watching their conversation thoughtfully, but he wasn't getting involved in it. Maybe he planned to wait until they were alone. "We can watch them for you until they're gone." "No." Her voice was quiet, but firm. "I'm not running away. Not again. I need to find out who is responsible for my brother's death and I need to make sure the clan is taken care of. It's my job, my responsibility." Finn watched her reach out for Mac's hand again. He took it, walking up behind her and wrapping her in his arms. They both faced him. "Besides," she went on, leaning into Mac, "if the stories about them are true, there's no running from the Keepers. Right?" Mac nodded sadly, eyes dark when he looked at Kess. "Right." He met Finn's gaze. "So we ride this out. You in?" Finn looked at the two of them, envious for what they shared between them. For the first time, he felt well and truly lonely. Cormac and Kess were a partnership, strong each in their own way apart, but stronger together. Finn realized he wanted that one day. "You bet your ass I'm in."

Chapter Twenty Samara liked entering rooms. More specifically, she enjoyed making an entrance and this one was no exception. The entire room had gone still when she'd walked in unexpectedly. She enjoyed cataloging all of the different expressions: surprise, lust, envy, anger, nervousness. But to finally see Kess, her new adversary, had been worth the risk. To be able to size her up in person, that was worth a thousand entrances. She'd heard that Kess was welcoming new guests tonight and she couldn't resist. Samara was a guest...of sorts. Granted, she was an unwelcome one, but she'd never let something as flimsy as an invitation stop her before. Not when Sek's werejaguar partners had come to town once they'd heard what had happened. Samara planned to speak to at least one of them before the night was over. An alliance with them could come in very handy once she'd wrested control of Miami from Kess. There were several strangers in the room, men she'd never met. She suspected these were the jaguars and gave smiles in all directions. One particular gentleman caught her attention. He was older, perhaps in his middle forties and very dark. Samara noted that the cut of his suit was impeccable. She made a point to walk past him on her way to the bar, brushing past him lightly, barely touching. She saw his nostrils flare, probably at the delicate scent of her perfume. Oh yes, she'd be speaking to him very soon. Samara went back to watching her enemies. Kess was young, painfully young. She couldn't be much more than Teresa's age really. The girl was pretty in an unconventional way. Not the ecstatic beauty of a hyena, but she was certainly pleasant to look upon. Kess had actually born up well under the surprise of Samara's sudden appearance. There was steel there that Samara would need to be wary of. But the girl was still new to her leadership role and to the pressures of looking after a clan and a city. She'd be out of her league, Bomani's help or no. The young men with her were intriguing. They clearly weren't locals. Well-built the two of them, and handsome in a rugged outdoorsy way. Samara wondered what they were to Kess and where she had found them. And, more importantly, what they could do that would affect the outcome of Samara's plans.

And then there were the problems: Mebis and Laila. She was already well aware of who they were before the brief introductions. And she had her suspicions of what they were. What she couldn't figure out was why they were here. They would bear watching for sure. But at least one thing had been accomplished--she'd gotten permission, not that she'd needed it, to stay in Miami. That made coordinating her people far simpler. She was right in the city and could see and hear what was going on almost immediately. She wasn't reduced to issuing orders over a phone from several hours away and hoping she'd hear if something went wrong. Here she would be able to react quickly. And she'd be able to get directly involved. Samara had been turning an idea around in her head for the past twenty-four hours. Perhaps she could leverage Kess' return to Miami and Sek's mental illness into something that would serve her aims. It was evident the siblings were not close. If she could broker a deal with Kess that got her werehyenas into the city legitimately, then an all out war may not be necessary. If she could make it sound like Sek's illness had him overreacting to Samara's forays into Miami, she might be able manipulate Kess into giving her what she wanted after all. The likelihood that it would work was slim, but Samara had nothing to lose by trying. And considerably more to gain. She waited until Kess was reasonably alone in the room before going over. She kept a martini glass in one hand--it was hard to appear threatening with a Cosmo in your hand-- and sidled over to the wereleopard. Samara made sure there wasn't anyone nearby to overhear their conversation. "I was hoping for a quiet moment to chat with you. I think we might have gotten off on the wrong foot," she began, smiling her most dazzling smile. Kess looked up from playing with her napkin. The poor girl was obviously uncomfortable at these types of events; yet another reason why she was unfit to hold the territory. Samara was built for parties like this. "I find that hard to believe." Samara laughed, reining in the typical hyena bark. "I think you've only heard one side of the story about me. I'm afraid I didn't come off very well in it, did I?" Kess didn't respond, just continued looking at her. Samara found her gaze uncomfortable, but forced herself to continue. "I don't like to speak ill of the dead," she whispered for Kess' ears alone, "but I fear, perhaps, that Sek might have exaggerated the threat I pose to your clan. He was not a well man, especially at the end."

Samara saw Kess' face tighten. She'd struck a nerve. "I don't think Sek's instincts about you were all that off the mark. You want Miami." Samara nodded her head. "I do. That I do not deny. But I'm not a monster, Kess. I don't want a war. I never have." She watched Kess' face for signs of getting through, but the girl gave her surprisingly little to go on. "With more...rational... minds at work, I'm sure we can come up with some kind of agreeable solution that benefits the both of us." Samara enjoyed playing to the idea that Sek was so unstable he’d imagined the whole conflict between them. She had no idea how familiar Kess was with the goings on in Miami, but the girl was most definitely aware of her brother's mental state. "What kind of solution?" Kess' voice was even. Samara couldn't tell if she was intrigued or angry. "One where we both get what we want." "An alliance?" Kess sounded skeptical. "Of a sort." "You want a foothold in Miami." I want more than that. But Samara merely nodded. "It would prove beneficial to both our groups." "What would we get in exchange? I see how this benefits you, but how do we come out better than we already are? I already hold Miami." Samara smiled, keeping a tight rein on her temper. That this little girl would think about dictating terms to her was ridiculous. Did she not know how weak her clan really was? Instead, she answered in a pleasant tone, "An end to the foolish spilling of blood that neither of us can afford." It was a half-truth; Samara would spill every last drop of her pack's blood if it got her Miami. She wasn't what you'd call shy of spending other people's lives. "Strength. Protection from outsiders. And that's only the beginning." Kess bit her lip, obviously considering her words. "It's an interesting idea you raise." Samara inclined her head. She could see one of Kess' companions--the dark haired young man--walking towards them. Time to go. "We can talk more later, once you've had a chance to settle everything with your brother. But think about what I've said. This is a chance to put an end to the fighting."

The wereleopard cocked her head, surveying Samara. Then she said softly, "I will." Samara smiled and slid away to refill her drink. As she went, she made sure to catch the eye of the older werejaguar who appeared to be in charge, bestowing a radiant smile on him. She could feel his eyes follow her, just as she knew they would. With a refreshed drink in hand, she formally introduced herself to him. Samara planned to put an end to it, of course, in her own way. The fighting would end when Kess and every last wereleopard was dead and Miami was hers.

Chapter Twenty-One Finn watched Mebis and Laila from his corner of the room. He'd mingled some with the werecats of Kess' clan, but found it distracting trying to do two things at once, like pay attention to a conversation he didn't really care about and keep track of the two werejackals. So he decided to give up on the socializing and focus on the more important job: keeping an eye on their two prime suspects. Mebis flitted from group to group, talking and laughing and fitting in with enviable ease. The guy definitely knew how to talk to people. He may only be a year or two older than Finn, but he moved through room with a confidence of someone much older. Laila, on the other hand, stood off to the side, arms crossed over her chest. She appeared to be trying to keep a look of epic boredom off of her face and was failing. Miserably. He watched as she rolled her eyes when she thought no one was looking at her. This evening was probably about as much fun for her as final exams had been for him. She took off. One minute she was in the room, the next gone. Finn was shocked at how quickly she'd just vanished from sight. He hadn't taken his attention off of her for very long, a few seconds maybe. Had she known he was watching her? If she had, that was pretty impressive; he'd thought he'd been relatively smooth about it. He took off after her, not running or anything, but wanting to keep a closer eye on her. Everyone in the house was in this room. If Laila had been the one to kill Sekhmet--and really, how would that even be possible? Did she get out mountain climbing equipment?--she now had unfettered access to the entire house. Maybe she would lead him to the missing heart. He could hear the clicking of her heels on the tile floor of the hallway so he trailed after her. She was in an area of the house he hadn't had a chance to explore yet, so he was pleasantly surprised to find a door that led to the garage. She'd gone in there. Finn went in after her. She wasn't happy to see him. Laila stood looking at him, hands perched defiantly on her hips. "Oh my God. Really?" Finn tried to look innocent. "What?" "You're following me? In here?"

"Why not? I'm bored." He wasn't lying. He was bored. And Laila was more interesting than anything likely to happen in that snoozefest of a party. Laila rolled her eyes so hard Finn wondered if she'd gotten a look at her brain. "Fine." Finn walked down the steps that led into the garage, eyeing the red motorcycle that sat in the center of the first bay. It was a gleaming hulk of a machine, aggressive lines and power in every inch of it. A Ducati. "Wow," he breathed. He'd never seen anything so beautiful and so dangerous looking. He'd had dirt bikes and a few old, battered motorcycles at home, but nothing like this thing. He might propose to it, it was so gorgeous. "You ever ride?" Laila sounded interested, which was a first. Finn stopped drooling over the motorcycle to look at her. "Nothing this nice. Dirt bikes mostly, and ATVs. Some beat up bikes. That kind of thing. This one looks like it could break the sound barrier." He walked around it, appreciating the view. He walked closer to it, putting his hands on the handlebars. He threw a leg over it and was trying to lever it straight when he saw Laila moving closer. He waved at the keys that sat in the ignition. Kess wouldn't mind if he took it out for a test ride. Probably. "Care for a ride?" Laila stared at him, head cocked. Her brown eyes narrowed for a second, then her face cleared. "Why not?" She hit the button to open the garage door, then grabbed two helmets from the rack that held them and handed Finn one. He tried it on; it was tight, but manageable. He looked over at Laila. She'd pulled the helmet on, but it was too big for her. It kept sliding down her head so that she could barely see. Finn leaned over and adjusted the straps, tightening them as much as he could. "How's that?" he asked, looking up. Her eyes were a light, warm brown, like a good, aged whisky. He was caught in their gaze for a moment, noticing the thick lashes that framed them and the scar that ran down her brow and cheek. It crinkled when she smiled. "It'll do." She snapped the face shield of the helmet down. Finn turned back to the front of the bike, holding it steady so Laila could throw a leg over it. He waited for her to get settled, then turned the key and started the motorcycle. He got acclimated to the controls, then when he felt comfortable, steered them out of the garage. He started slow, feeling the machine's balance and weight, getting used to the heft of it. Laila held on to him, hands on his waist. He took a few turns around the driveway, to make sure he was cool with the bike and the extra weight of a passenger. Then he snapped his own face shield down and said, "Hang on."

"What?" Laila asked, her voice muffled by the two helmets. Finn grinned and gunned the engine. Laila yelped as they shot off unexpectedly, Finn moving through the gears quickly. The Ducati accelerated like a dream. Laila latched onto his waist tightly, arms locking around him as they took off. He had no idea where he was going, but it didn't matter. The motorcycle responded quickly to every shift of their bodies, speeding them deeper into the velvet night. He had a pretty girl pressed against him, the wind was ripping past him in a steady scream, and he was at peace. It didn't get much better than this. He wound up finding his way to the beach. He pulled into one of the open spaces, and killed the engine. Laila pried herself off of him and sat up, sliding her face plate up. "Holy crapballs, that was awesome!" "Never been on a motorcycle before?" Finn let the kickstand down and got off the bike. He took off his helmet and ran fingers through his sweat-damp hair. Laila removed her helmet and shook her head. He took both helmets and stowed them on the bike. When he turned back, she'd already hit the sand, her sandals in her hand. "Come on!" Finn joined her, kicking off his shoes. He caught up with her, admiring the sway of her hips as she plowed through the sand. He noted that Laila didn't do anything by halves; even on a moonlight stroll, she was striding through the sand as if she had a clear purpose in mind. Finn let her go, content to enjoy the view of her back, knowing that his long strides would catch up with her short ones. He took a deep breath of heavy, salty air. There was nothing like this back home. He watched the blackened waves pull up along the shore and sweep back out again. He'd been to the coast only a handful of times, but it hadn't been like this. He was surprised to find he liked it down here, even though it was so different from everything he was used to. Laila engaged in a bone-snapping stretch. "Gods, it's good to be out of that party. It was like being trapped in a room full of walking naps." Finn laughed. The girl had a pretty good turn of phrase. He thought he'd gotten the better deal—he may be spying on her, but at least she was pretty and funny. "Did Sekhmet have many parties?" He saw her cut her eyes at him. Probably trying to figure out what was best to say. Laila shrugged. "Not many. They were just as boring."

He smiled. "Did you see a lot of him…before?" He wasn't sure if he should say before his death or before he was murdered or before you killed him, so he played it safe. Laila frowned. "Not really. We spent a little bit of time together, but he didn't seem like a person who was easy to get to know." She paused, then turned her face up to look at him. "Did you know him very well?" Finn gritted his teeth. He knew Sek well enough and despised the man thoroughly. "I had the misfortune to meet him once." "Misfortune?" Laila leaned into him, obviously curious. Finn appreciated the lean. Laila was a compact girl, curvy but petite. "Yeah, he's not what you would have called a nice guy. Did you have a different experience?" He was interested in what face Sekhmet had shown to Laila and her brother. She chewed on her lower lip thoughtfully, not answering immediately. They walked in silence, Laila's purposeful stride slowing as she thought about his question. Finn meandered beside her, hands in his pockets and waited. Finally she spoke. "Somewhat. He was a… complicated guy." Which is a nice way of saying batshit crazy. Finn was going to follow up on that but Laila beat him to the punch. "How is everything going? With figuring out who did it?" Now it was Finn's turn to narrow his eyes and look at her closely. Could she be pumping him for information or was she genuinely curious? He still didn't believe a little thing like Laila could take out a full grown man, whether she was a were or not. Especially not someone as nuts as Sek had been. Unless… Finn took a closer look at Laila, not seeing the entire package as a whole, but looking at the pieces. Something was off about her looks. He studied her carefully until it came to him. Her hair was much too dark for her coloring. It reminded him of Kess' hair, in color if not in texture. "Do you dye your hair?" If he'd been expecting an admission of guilt, he was sorely disappointed. Laila laughed, a hearty sound that he found he enjoyed hearing. "Um, rude much?" She playfully batted at his arm. "A girl doesn't answer questions like that, silly boy. And don't think I didn't notice your subtle way of changing the subject." And now so have you. Clever. Finn was at a loss. He knew he couldn't continue questioning her and he wouldn't be able to answer any of her questions, just in case she was Sek's murderer.

Which left the conversational opportunities decidedly limited. He felt like he was dancing a waltz in the wrong time, on a dance floor littered with claymore mines. One wrong step and he'd be blown to Kingdom Come. "Break's over," he said, turning his steps back towards the Ducati. Laila had enjoyed the first ride and loosened up a little. Maybe another would open her up further. "You ready for another ride?" Laila looked over her shoulder at him and grinned. "The thing's a beast. You bet!" She took off running. Finn followed behind at a more leisurely pace, enjoying the view.

Chapter Twenty-Two Samara had left Miami immediately after the cocktail party in order to return home and meet with her children. She'd only be gone a few hours and felt it was worth her absence to collect her son. She doubted much would happen while she was gone. "I have a job for you, Rafe." She made her voice soft and silky, like expensive chocolate. Her son raised his head. She could read the startlement in the widened eyes, in the flared nostrils. As much as she might say that he was stupid, Samara knew there wasn't anything wrong with the way his mind worked. He was right to be afraid. Teresa was looking at her quizzically, but she ignored her daughter. Instead, she focused on her son. His face, like hers and all werehyenas, was achingly lovely. Her eyes traced the strong bones, then ran down the scars she had given him. Another mother might regret having disfigured her son in a fit of anger, but Samara did not. It had taught him the proper amount of respect. "Yes, ma'am?" She smiled at him, a slight gift. He did not smile back. Instead he looked nervous. As he should. This was his one opportunity to do something right for a change. To actually help his pack instead of just being a drag on its resources. "You're to take a team and go to Miami. Observe the new clan leader. Frighten her if the opportunity presents itself. Even better if you could kidnap her and bring her here to me, but I doubt that will be possible. Still, use your judgment on what can be risked." She saw Teresa open her mouth to protest and Samara shot her a look that silenced her. Sometimes Teresa could be abysmally slow on the uptake. She couldn't possibly think that this was a reward for her brother, could she? That would be ridiculous. No, this was Rafe's last chance to prove himself. Samara knew it, and her son knew it. If it took Teresa a bit longer to process, well, that was Teresa’s problem. Perhaps she'd explain it to Teresa with a puppet show later if her daughter still hadn't caught on to what this mission really meant for her brother. Rafe nodded. "Who will I be taking with me?"

Samara thought for a few moments. She didn't want to send him with anyone too important to lose; that would just be foolish. But it couldn't look like she was deliberately setting him up to fail; that would be too obvious. She eventually decided on three males she wouldn't mind never seeing again. She'd let them know they had a mission as soon as she was done with her children. "You leave tomorrow. Be careful. There's the standing kill order if you're caught. I'm the only one of us allowed to be in Miami proper." Still, Kess and the leopards couldn't possibly know every werehyena she could bring to bear. There were perks to being an overly reproductive group. "Report to me anything that looks out of the ordinary. Do you understand what I'm telling you, Rafe?" His eyes were hard when they met hers. He understood completely what she was doing. Samara thought she saw hatred finally beginning to simmer in those amber depths. About time. Perhaps Rafe would bear closer watching. "Perfectly, mother. I understand you perfectly."

Chapter Twenty-Three Laila was hungry; starving actually. She made her way to the main house, hoping to snag a sandwich or something that would tide her over until a larger meal could be had. It was quiet, with an odd empty quality that the guest house didn't have. Despite being thoroughly modern in conveniences, the guest house felt warm and inviting. The kitchen, however, was not empty. Finn stood in front of the open refrigerator doors, muttering to himself. He did not sound particularly pleased. He stuck his head back in, rooting around in the back of the fridge, but came up with nothing. He closed the doors with a look of disgust on his face. "This blows." Laila rested her arms on the island and watched him stew. "The cupboards all bare, Mother Hubbard?" She pushed away from the countertop and joined Finn at the fridge. "It can't be that bad. Out of the way, Ginormo." She opened the refrigerator door and took a look. Finn was right, surprisingly. There were a few slices of cheese, some cans of soda and various containers of milk and juice, but very little in the way of solid food to be found. And certainly nothing for sandwich fixings. "Told you," Finn said over her shoulder. "And you staring into the fridge won't make things magically appear." He turned on his heel. "Let's go." Laila debated with herself for a moment. Should she go with him? He was tasked with keeping an eye on her, that much he'd admitted to. But she'd been tasked with learning everything she could about him and his companions, most especially Kess. Well, not tasked in the strictest sense of the word, but she couldn't sit around doing nothing and it might help Mebis with his continuing mission, whatever that might be. Besides, going with Finn was better than being stuck here with no food. She followed him into the garage. Laila had to fight down a grin; they were going to take the bike. Finn already had a helmet on and was levering the bike upright. Laila grabbed hers and joined him on it. He gave her no warning when they shot off. Laila suspected he liked her wild grab around his waist, if his throaty chuckle was any indication. She wouldn't admit it to him, but she enjoyed

the Ducati and not just for the rush of speed. She liked being pressed up against Finn, feeling the powerful muscles of his stomach and back against her arms and chest. She'd never tell him, of course, just like she wouldn’t tell him that she probably didn't need to hold on as tightly as she did. The ride didn't last long. Finn pulled the Ducati into a space and Laila hopped off. "Where are we?" She saw a bustling little restaurant to their right. It was nothing fancy, but it was busy. Finn took her hand. "Kess said this place has the best sandwiches in Miami. I've been meaning to try it." Laila followed his lead. The restaurant was almost full. They got the last table against the wall. The restaurant was loud and much of what was spoken wasn't English. She had to talk in a half-shout just to be heard over the din. "Where is Kess anyway?" Finn didn't look up from perusing the menu. "She and Cormac met some of her old friends for lunch. I was left to fend for myself." "Poor neglected baby," she said, looking down at her own menu to buy herself some time. Kess didn't seem to go anywhere without Cormac, which made sense from a boyfriend perspective as well as a bodyguard perspective. He was a big guy, not as broad as Finn was, but strong and probably fast. She thought she and Mebis could take him if they had to. Kess would be no problem. If she had to go places with a bodyguard, she clearly had no idea how to take care of herself. She realized Finn had asked her a question. Laila looked up to find him staring at her impatiently. "Sorry, what did you say?" "Do you know what you want?" He spoke slowly and accompanied his words with random gestures like he was talking in sign language. She smacked him with her menu. "Yes, jackass." She turned her attention to the smirking waiter and gave him her order. Finn did the same, ordering the largest collection of meats and cheeses that could be gathered into a sandwich. When they had their drinks, Laila asked, "So, if you don't mind me asking, what are you doing down here?" Finn gave her an odd look. "What do you mean?" "Well, it makes sense for Cormac to be down here—he's Kess' boyfriend. And Kess being down here is a no brainer. But why did you come with them?" Laila didn't think this would give her anything she could bring back to Mebis; she just wanted to know for herself.

Finn played with his straw. "I couldn't just want a vacation to someplace sunny?" Laila pursed her lips; she wasn't buying that. Finn tried to act the fool a lot of the time--and most of the time he was pretty successful--but Laila suspected there was more to it than that. Finn was pretty sharp when he wanted to be. He sighed. "I just thought that someplace new would do me good." He paused, casting his eyes down for a moment. "It's not the easiest thing to be in my family sometimes." Laila watched him intently. She thought this might be a put-on, a show for her benefit. But he did look bothered. His mouth was turned down, not in a frown exactly, and his eyebrows were low over his eyes. "How so?" He glanced at her, his brown eyes catching hers. "My brother is the perfect one. I'm sort of…well…not." He took a sip from his cup. "Burke's got everything wired—the right girl, the right grades, the right attitude. He'll have a place in the," he paused as if searching for the right word, "family business. I'm just not built that way." Laila touched the back of his hand with one finger. She did understand some of what he was saying, had felt a bit of what he must feel. She wasn't jealous of Mebis, not exactly, but there were times when it was difficult to be the sister of someone so obviously superior. "I get it, you know." Finn stared at her as if he didn't believe her. She smirked, tapping his hand lightly. "My brother is better at everything. He's done everything first. And best." Now it was her turn to sigh. "I love him, but sometimes it would just be nice if he...." She trailed off, not sure what she wanted to say. "Failed?" Finn offered. He moved his hand so he could catch and hold her fingers. Laila shrugged, feeling a flush cover her cheeks. "Maybe. I guess. I don't know." "That I get." Finn twined his fingers with hers. "I feel like I'm always being compared to him, even when I'm not." He looked away for a second. "I used to think that if Burke was the good one, I had to be the screw up, if only to make myself different from him. Now, I'm not so sure." "Who do you want to be?" He thought about it for a few minutes. "Someone better. Someone who can be counted on, someone who does the right thing." He shook his head. "I have no idea why I'm telling you all of this."

Because I asked. She got the feeling that even Finn's family didn't take him seriously most of the time. They'd probably never even thought to ask him how he was feeling or what he wanted for himself. She rubbed her thumb against the side of his hand, relishing the warmth of his hand in hers. She wanted to share something with him, something she'd never told anyone. She only thought about it when she was alone in her room, late at night. "I feel like I'm trying to fit into shoes that are too big for me. I'm not my brother. I'm never going to be. Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever be enough." "You're Laila. That should be enough for anybody." He reddened a little as he realized what he'd said. He cleared his throat. "So that's why I came down here. To get an idea of who I am without being in someone's shadow." Laila took her hand back from him as the waiter brought two huge plates of food and set them down in front of them. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, feeling suddenly shy. She never felt shy. But Finn had said she was enough. It was nice to hear. Before he bit into his sandwich, she caught his eye. "Hey." When Finn looked at her, she smiled. "For what it's worth, I think you'd be enough for anyone too." He smiled at her, before turning it into a smirk. "More than enough probably." Laila rolled her eyes. "Way to ruin the moment."

Chapter Twenty-Four Finn exited the house via the patio. It was late afternoon and Kess was having a meeting with her clan, Cormac was talking to his father on the phone, and Finn was left to entertain himself. He'd thought about staying in the clan meeting, but he found that many cats in one place unnerving. Especially with the way that one of the females looked at him—as if he were a blue plate special and she hadn't eaten in a week. Kess assured him that Nyla was harmless, but it didn't help, even when Kess told him that Nyla just preferred younger men. Preferred younger men as what, a snack? It was downright eerie how quiet the werecats were. Even with twelve or so of them in the house for the meeting, they still moved around in their own silos of silence. Finn was used to a lot more noise and distractions; all of this quiet was beginning to make him antsy. He wondered where Mebis and Laila were. He'd been keeping an eye on them when they weren't in Kess' proximity. Finn had noticed that Mebis was often meeting with Kess, but that Laila frequently was not. He figured now was a good time to find out what she did during her absences. Finn crossed the deck and rounded the pool. He thought that taking a walk around the grounds might dispel some of his pent-up energy. He hadn't gone for his usual run this morning. He stopped though when he saw Laila. She was moving through some kind of martial art form on the back lawn. She'd been hidden by the house before, but now that Finn had cleared the pool area, he could see her clearly. He settled in to watch the slow, careful movements, her arms flowing like water through different poses, holding them briefly before moving on to the next form. Her grace shocked him, as did her sense of calm. He wouldn't have expected it of her. "If you're going to stare, you may as well come closer!" Laila did not stop her form or lessen her concentration. Finn moved a few yards closer to her, flopping to the ground with plenty of room between them so he didn't crowd her. It looked like she might need space for what she was doing. He had no idea what she was practicing, but he found he couldn't look away from the sight of her arms

and legs carving shapes and patterns through the air. Finally she stopped, took a beat to collect herself, then turned to face him. "What was that you were doing?" he asked her. She wiped some sweat from her brow with her arm, then wiped that on her tank top. It was hot outside, and Finn could feel sweat gathering around the waistband of his shorts. He stood up as she came nearer. "It's tai chi. It's supposed to help me relax." "Did it work?" He couldn't keep the teasing out of his voice. Relaxed wasn't a word he'd use to describe Laila, and he hadn't even known her that long. "Do I look relaxed?" She gathered up her hair and flung it over her shoulder. "No. You look sweaty." He grinned at her. No girl he ever met liked being told they looked less than perfect. She rolled her eyes but didn't retort. "What are you doing out here?" "I was bored." Laila gave him a sharp look. "Is there a reason you're being so nosey?" "Just curious." He shrugged. Laila turned and began to walk away. "Well stop it. It's annoying." Finn watched her, fascinated. She moved with an economy of motion and a grace that was foreign to Finn. Kess was graceful in a completely different way that had to do with her being a cat. Laila's was different. Finn found he didn't want to look away. "You're just cranky because you're hot." "I am not cranky." She turned to face him, hands on her hips. "Cranky-pants." He used his most annoying voice, the one that drove his brother, Burke, completely mental. He saw Laila smile. She was very pretty when she didn't look like she wanted to wear his guts for a wig. "You should do that more often." "Do what?" She looked puzzled. "Smile." She looked startled. "I smile." She sounded defensive. Finn grinned at her. He kept doing it until she finally grinned back at him, her smile practically splitting her face in half. "Much better." "You're impossible." But she kept smiling. "You got a gaming system in your guest house?"

"I think so. Why?" "Come on." Finn didn't wait to see if she followed him; he just began to walk to the house where Laila and Mebis were staying. After a few moments, he heard her following after him. As he led the way to her guesthouse, he tried not to think about what he was doing. He wanted to spend more time with Laila because she made him curious. She was cute, sure, and he was never one to turn down hanging out with a cute girl, but she was more than that. Just how much more remained to be seen. He figured this might also be a prime opportunity to see what might be in that guesthouse. Finn highly doubted they would be displaying Sek's missing heart prominently. He didn't expect to walk in to neon lights flashing an arrow that pointed the way to where it was hidden. But he might get lucky and find something that would help Kess out. The fact that he got to do it in Laila's presence was a bonus. And it wasn't like he was shirking his duty--he'd still be keeping an eye on her. He slowed so she could catch up to him. She walked pretty fast, so he didn't have to alter his pace much. She let him into the house and he took a moment to look around. He whistled. This place was almost as nice as the main house and much more private. "You scored with this place." He headed over to the television and the shelf that housed the games. There was an impressive array of titles. Should be something here that would interest Laila. "It's okay." Laila flopped down on the sofa. He raised an eyebrow at her, disbelieving. "Okay, it is pretty awesome." "What do you like to play?" "Um...I don't play." She said it with a smirk on her face. He wondered what that was about. "Really?" She shook her head. "Okay, we'll start slow then." He explained the mechanics of the game to her and showed her how to use the controller and then promptly got his ass handed to him. She smiled sweetly at him. After the third match he lost, he changed to Modern Warfare. It turned out she was a much better shot than he was too. "You've played before,” he accused. “You lied to me." "Nope.” Her smile deepened. “You didn't actually ask if I've ever played before. You asked what I liked to play. And I don't play. Games." She winked at him. "I don't lie if you ask me the question directly."

"I'll remember that then." He got up. "Where's the bathroom?" She waved towards the back of the house. "Be right back." She turned her attention back to the game as he made his way through a bedroom and into a bathroom. Finn poked around the bathroom cabinets, finding nothing besides toiletries and extra toilet papers and towels. He turned on the water in the sink and crept into the far bedroom. He made a quick circuit of the room, sharpening his sense of smell, bringing his wolf senses a little bit more to the front. He didn't catch even a whiff of Sekhmet. He looked under the bed and in the closet, but found little besides spare linens and men's clothes. He hurried into the other bedroom, which must be where Laila was staying. He caught something. It was faint, but it was there. Finn sniffed again. It seemed to be coming from under the bed. It wasn't very strong, so he doubted it was the heart, but it might be a clue. He was kneeling down for a look when he sensed a presence behind him. "Something I can help you find?" Laila’s voice was so cold it could chill beer. Finn leaped to his feet. He tried to plaster an innocent look on his face, but gave it up with her glaring at him like that. She moved to the bathroom and turned off the tap. Then she leaned in the doorway, arms crossed over her chest, deceptively casual. Finn watched her carefully. There was something pricking at the back of his neck, an instinct that sensed danger, and suddenly he thought that Laila might be very dangerous indeed. If she had killed Sekhmet, she'd done it in his own home with other people around. Finn realized just how vulnerable he was right now. This wasn't good. "I came to see if you were taking a bath in there. Instead I find you snooping around my stuff." Her voice was as distant as the North Pole. Finn rubbed the back of his neck, much like his cousin did when he didn't know what to say. "Yeah." She breathed in through her nose sharply, letting it out slowly as if she were trying to control her anger. "Spy." Finn stared at her, trying to gauge her reactions as carefully as he could. She wasn't like the girls he usually ran with and he didn't have a lot to go on with Laila anyway. He went with honesty. "I told you at the pool that I was keeping an eye on you. A man was murdered here. We’re trying to figure out how."

She opened her mouth to say something, but she stopped herself. Finn tensed, ready to change or fight or even run if the occasion called for it. "And you expect to find the murderer under my bed?" Her voice was hard. Then in softer tones, she said, "Get out of my room, please." Finn was surprised. Stunned. Her reaction wasn't one he'd been expecting. There was no shouting. No temper tantrum. He walked past her and quietly let himself out the front door. She didn't follow. Once he was outside, he took in a deep breath of humid air, trying to make sense of what had happened inside. He wasn't sure what he'd scented--it could have been something as simple as clothes she'd worn when she'd been in close proximity to Sekhmet--or it could have been something more damning. But she hadn't attacked him and she'd actually treated him fairly well considering it was her room he'd been caught snooping in. While he couldn’t prove it yet, he thought she was hiding something. He did know one thing though. That yurt was looking better and better.

Chapter Twenty-Five Laila had been surprised when Mebis had suggested they all go out dancing. It seemed kind of odd with everything going on in the house--the uproar over Sekhmet's death, the new werejaguar arrivals, and the whole uninvited hyena issues--to be heading out for a night on the town. They hadn't even properly entombed Sekhmet's remains yet in whatever way the wereleopards approached these things. So she was even more stunned when Kess had accepted the idea. She'd thought the uptight wereleopard would have put the kibosh on anything remotely resembling a good time. Still, Laila admitted that Mebis was on to something. They'd all been bottled up inside that prison of a house, there were new and interesting weres to entertain and everyone needed a break before the tensions frayed their tempers even closer to the snapping point. She'd jumped at the chance to get out of the house, even if it meant she had to do it in the company of her erstwhile keeper. She'd spent the rest of last night and all of today avoiding Finn. It wasn't hard. She was angry, both at herself and at him. At herself, because she had bought, just for a minute, that he might be interested in spending time with her for its own sake. At him, because he'd duped her completely. He'd only used her to gain access to the guest house and get a chance to poke around. It should have been her playing him. She was off her game. Laila didn't acknowledge that Kess could have just removed her and Mebis from the house and performed her own search, or ordered her wereleopards to do it when she and Mebis were otherwise occupied in meetings. Or out at a dance club on a night like this. She frowned. She knew she and her brother had nothing to worry about; there was nothing to tie them to Sekhmet's death in their rooms or their luggage. Kess, Finn, and the rest of the planet could search all they liked. They wouldn't find anything. Finn had wisely left her alone. He hadn't shadowed her, hadn't bothered her at all the entire day. Laila hadn't mentioned the incident to Mebis; she hadn't wanted to make him aware of her gross stupidity. She'd spent the day inside, hiding, and if Mebis found anything strange about it,

he thankfully didn't comment. She knew she was kind of behaving like a baby, but something was bothering her and she didn't like it. Not one bit. She was disappointed. She hated to admit it, even to herself, but she was disappointed that Finn hadn't been interested in her. And she didn't know what to do about it. It wasn't like she could kill him for not expressing an interest. Well, she could, but it would kind of be bad manners. Laila looked at Finn as he walked ahead of her with Cormac, Kess and one of the younger werejaguars. He looked like he didn't have a care in the world, like he was a guy out for a good time. Again she wondered exactly what he was. You didn't find yourself in the presence of a bunch of werecats in their hometown without being something special yourself. She highly doubted he was just a normal guy that got drawn into all of this. She ducked her head when she saw him turn to look behind him. No need to be caught staring like some crushing tweener. She was curious about him, that was all, but his ego would probably take it as something more. And he didn't need to be any more smug than he already was. They were through the doors quickly once Kess had a word with the doorman. The club was a two level affair and they climbed the stairs to the top level which was partially open to the sky. It was draped in greenery, like a jungle had sprouted up in the middle of the city. Blue and green light slid over columns and tables and dancers moving in tandem on a small dance floor. The music had a decidedly Latin flair, as did the dancers. Their party scored a couple of tables. Laila sat down, content to watch the crowd as the club filled up. Lots of pretty people mingled and drank. She located the exits and catalogued the people milling about for immediate threat. She felt someone drop into the chair beside her and looked over. "Okay, look, I'm sorry, alright. It was pretty assy of me to try and go through your stuff." Finn wasn't looking at her, but kept up a steady stream of apology. Remarkably, it did make Laila feel better. She hadn't expected it to. "So I just wanted to apologize, okay?" She waited until he looked her in the face, which took him a couple of minutes. She wondered if she scared him. There was a moment last night when he'd gotten a look on his face that made her think he understood how dangerous she could be.

She shrugged, noncommittal. She wasn't sure she wanted to let him off the hook quite yet. "That's not much in the way of apology." She put a little singsong into her voice so he wouldn't take too much offense. "You're speaking to me." His ever-present grin was back. "That's something." "So you're done spying on me?" "I didn't say that. I like watching you." He winked at her. He leaned back, comfortable once again. Laila found it hard to stay mad at him. She was beginning to understand his appeal. There were worse things than having someone like Finn hanging around. It would have been easy to tell him to get lost, but she found she didn't mind him, that she had missed his goofy company. He was funny and remarkably observant when he had to be. That was one of the things she noticed about him--he was easily dismissed as a threat because he was so--what was the word? Easy going? Normal? Forgettable? But that was a mistake. It was a remarkable cover, made all the more remarkable for apparently being genuine and uncultivated. Finn didn't try. He just was. Laila could already feel the tension easing. It would be good to blow off some steam and the change of venue seemed to be what everyone needed. Kess even seemed more relaxed. Laila would have thought you'd have to hit her with a tranq dart to get her to unwind a little. The only one who looked more tense was Cormac, but that might have something to do with him watching his girlfriend like a hawk. He needn't have worried. She had two wereleopards guarding her as well. Laila looked around at the adjacent tables. Mebis was seated with Cormac and Kess and the werejaguar whose name she couldn't remember. Mebis was talking with Kess and had even managed to make her smile slightly once. The other werejaguar and the two wereleopard guards were at the next table over from them. Everyone looked so dour, it made Laila smirk. Finn leaned over. "What's so funny?" Laila smiled slyly. "Everyone still looks so...funereal. It's like we just uprooted the depression to somewhere more colorful. And louder." Finn grinned. She could tell the joker in him appreciated her observation. "Then how's about we show them how it's done. Let's dance." "Do you even know how to salsa?" "Hell no. But who cares, right?" He stood up, offering Laila his hand.

She took it. She had no idea how to salsa either, now that she thought about it, but Finn was right. It might be her only night out in Miami and she'd been itching to take advantage of the scene here. At least she'd have something good to tell Gen when she got back home. And she needed to move, to do something. All those hours of sitting around hadn't helped her hyperactive personality in the slightest. She saw Kess' table watching them as they entered the fray on the dance floor. It was a wild tangle of limbs and sinuous bodies moving to the driving rhythm. Laila looked around and tried to mimic what she could see of the dance but it was hard. Finn was no help at all, but at least he could move in time with the beat. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mebis leading Kess out onto the dance floor. Cormac watched with a tight look on his face--Laila thought it might be concern mixed with jealousy. Of course Mebis knew how to salsa--it seemed he knew how to do everything and could do it better than she could--and he and Kess whirled around each other easily. Laila was surprised that Kess knew the steps, but if she grew up in Miami, it made sense that she'd be familiar with the dance. It also surprised her how well they moved together. She flicked her eyes at Cormac and saw from the look on his face that he noted it too. She also noticed how much her brother seemed to be enjoying Kess' company. She hoped Cormac hadn't noticed that too. Finn spun her wildly. He may not know what he was doing, but at least he did it with enthusiasm. They were flailing around on the dance floor, steps not at all right, but they had the rhythm flowing between them. Finn was laughing as he tried to catch on, making Laila laugh as she imagined the spectacle they were making of themselves. One thing she had to give to this strange guy: he knew how to make her laugh. He got her in a way that few had. It was...refreshing. Mebis threw her a smile. It was genuine, the first of its kind she'd seen since they’d arrived in the city. Tonight was good for all of them, it seemed. She twisted around, turning her attention back to Finn, who grinned at her. He obviously didn't care what they looked like out on the floor, which was another thing to recommend him. A guy who wanted to dance regardless of whether he was good at it? Yeah, no wonder he thought himself a ladykiller. In his little podunk town in the mountains, he probably was. A sudden sense of danger pulled her focus away from Finn and towards her brother. She scanned the dance floor and the room, trying to determine where the feeling of threat was

coming from. Laila had learned long ago to listen to her instincts. They were what kept you alive, regardless of whether you could explain them or not. She saw her then. A woman who was moving to the music but wasn't actually dancing--she was just trying to get closer to Kess. She was moving like a predator, tracking her prey as if on a desert savannah and not in a nightclub in a big American city. Laila caught the telltale glitter of a knife's blade held against the inside of the woman's arm. Laila sized up the crowd in the bar quickly, identifying two others that were focusing their attention on the dance floor and Kess in particular. Mebis didn't appear to see the threat, or if he did, he was ignoring it to draw her in. Either way, Laila couldn't risk the woman getting a shot at her brother. If it meant that she protected Kess as well, that just couldn't be helped. Laila disengaged from Finn with a warning look. The woman with the knife was closing on Kess' back, going in for an underhand strike. Laila interposed herself smoothly, just as Mebis was turning Kess, placing her behind him. So he had been aware of the assassin. Interesting. Laila was already striking, grabbing the woman's extended wrist and digging her fingers deep into tendons. Laila caught the knife as it dropped. She dropped the woman with a strike to the bridge of her nose. Cormac was already on his way to meet them on the dance floor, his face dark with fury. Laila turned around and saw another woman coming up behind Kess. She was lovely, and wouldn't have looked out of place at a photo shoot somewhere, but she was holding something in her hand that fractured the light of the club along its jagged edges. It was a broken beer bottle. Before she could intercept, Mebis was on it. He'd slipped the bronze knife down from where it was hidden in his sleeve and had exchanged places again with Kess. He blocked the blow that would have hit him in the stomach, pushing the woman's arm away from his body with his forearm and then struck with the knife. He'd have penetrated her heart; this second assassin would be dead in minutes. Kess was yelling out orders before the body had even hit the ground. She indicated that the two guards should get the werejaguars out of the club safely. Then she was moving, Cormac beside her. Mebis joined Kess on her other side, propelling them all toward the door. Laila had planned to follow as backup, but then her attention was taken up by the two women from before, now joined by another stunner. The three tried to get past her to close on the small party. Laila engaged them quickly, wanting to give her brother cover.

People were moving off of the dance floor in droves, screaming at the sight of the bloody body. It was going to be mass panic in a few minutes, which worked for Laila. It would give her a pocket of time to dispatch these threats. Her own knife was in her dominant hand, from where she'd stored it in her boot. She still held the first assassin's knife in her off hand. Finn stood beside her, surprising her. She'd expected him to follow after Cormac and Kess. But she didn't have time to argue about it. Instead, she waited for one of the women to come in close since she also carried a knife. Laila wasn't worried; she could see the woman had no formal training and handled it sloppily. Laila slashed her hand, causing the woman to drop the knife, and then reversed her strike with a backhand swipe that opened up the woman's stomach. Laila's gaze took in the room for more assailants. Nothing new was coming at them, but she caught sight of a mini-brawl taking place in a corner. A tall young woman with flowing red hair was handing a tall, skinny kid his ass. The boy couldn't have been much past sixteen. She saw the kid go down. She caught a glimpse of the girl's face and the resemblance to Samara was unmistakable. She thought about going over there and helping the kid out, especially if he was getting attacked by a werehyena, but then she saw him get his hands on a chair and figured he'd be okay. He might not be able to go hand to hand, but he could scrap with what was available. The Samara lookalike stared at her. While the redhead was distracted, the boy lifted the chair and hit her with it and took off. Laila wanted to cheer. She appreciated good improv. She turned to the two that were fighting Finn. Of course, he got two of them--no one thought of her as a threat. That was a huge mistake on their part--they left their backs completely exposed to her. He was getting cut up on his arms—one had a broken bottle like the woman Mebis had downed. So Laila focused on her first. She closed quickly, jabbing her knife into the woman's lower back, probably getting a kidney. The woman dropped and Finn was able to headbutt the other beautiful blonde fighting him. Laila looked for more enemies, but saw that they were almost alone on the dance floor now. Finn pulled her arm and she let him lead, her eyes searching the shadows for ambush. She and Finn joined the mass exodus of people trying to get away. She sheathed her blade and stashed the assassin's knife in her other boot. She jerked Finn's arm and led him down a back stairway she had noticed when she came in.

They trooped down the narrow stairs, and found the young man from the earlier fight trying to get to his feet. He held his hand awkwardly against his chest and Laila could see he had a couple of broken fingers. She and Finn helped him up, steadying him when he swayed. He put his hand to the back of his head and it came away bloody. They helped him down the few steps left and out into the fresh air as the sounds of sirens approached. The kid was bearing his own weight now. He pulled away from them as they hit the alley. "You going to be okay?" Laila saw him favoring one side and thought he might have some bruised or cracked ribs. She'd love to know what he'd done to piss off the redheaded werehyena, because there was no doubt that the young woman was related in some way to Samara. The boy nodded, dark hair hiding his face. "I'll be fine. Thanks." He took off down the alley and disappeared around the corner. "Kid's got the right idea," Finn said, taking her hand as they walked quickly away from the nightclub. Laila kept her senses open to sounds of pursuit but there was nothing but people trying to get away from the disturbance and those trying to see what was going on. There was no sign of her brother or Kess' group, but she assumed they'd gotten away safely and were on their way back to the house. She had no doubt that Mebis would be able to handle anything that came his way if those girls back in the bar were any indication of what could be brought against them. She hadn't even broken a sweat. They'd taken several cars, and there was still one in the lot. Their lot hadn't been cordoned off yet, so they were able to get on the road back to the house. Laila tried to control the excess adrenaline that coursed through her. The fight hadn't been long enough, nor bloody enough. She wanted more. She needed to burn this off if she had any hope of sitting still through the meetings that were sure to last throughout the night. "Pull in here," she ordered him, gesturing to a hotel parking lot. "What? Why?" But he did it anyway. He pulled the car into a spot by some palm trees and put it in park. Then he turned in his seat and looked at her quizzically. She tried to get herself to calm down, to get the tremors in her body to stop. "I just need a few minutes, okay? I'm a little keyed up." She got out of the car to pace around it, needing movement. Thank Anubis she hadn't tasted blood or there'd be no coming down from this.

Finn followed her out, but leaned against the hood of the car, watching her. She tried not to be too crazy in front of him. "Anything I can do?" She stopped for a second, tempted. There was one thing he could do that would help her, but it probably wasn't advisable under the circumstances. And not in a car in a hotel parking lot. Still, she wanted to give in to the need for touch, for physical closeness. She was saved from answering by the ring of his cell phone. "Yeah?" Laila walked a few feet away, giving Finn privacy and giving herself a chance to pull it together. She needed to talk to Mebis about he handled this--how did he achieve release when a fight was over too quickly? He probably had some Zen master's secret to turning off the bloodlust. She stopped reacting and started thinking. Four women attacked them. Most likely werehyenas, from the look of them. That meant they either had a spy in the house or, more likely, someone keeping an eye on them outside of it. It had been an attack against Kess specifically. Samara was flouting Kess' authority beyond just testing the boundaries of a new clan leader. She was serious about starting a war. Laila thought about the werejaguars--where would they stand in all of this? On whose side would they fight, if it came to it? Or would they disappear, only to come back once the dust settled? But the assassins tonight were ill-prepared. If they'd really wanted to kill Kess, they should have been carrying handguns. And to try and take her in public like they'd done was just asking for trouble. Samara was bold but she wasn't stupid. What little Laila had seen of the woman hadn't given her the impression of carelessness. Maybe it hadn't been Samara's idea at all. Laila remembered the girl who had looked so much like Samara. Was there another power player in town? And where did that boy fit into all of this? "Hey," Finn called to her, gesturing to the car. "You okay? We've got to get back!" Laila slowly made her way back to the car. She wanted to talk to Mebis to get his take on things. He hadn't seen everything she had, but he was smart and he had experience. Whether or not they wanted to be, she and her brother were neck deep in the clan dealings in Miami now.

Chapter Twenty-Six Samara surveyed her children. They had arrived at almost the same time. Rafe showing up had been no surprise to her, but Teresa being here had been something of a shock. She had given Rafe orders to scope out Miami, but Teresa had been explicitly ordered to stay behind and prepare the pack. To find her here meant that her daughter had disobeyed. Samara had a good idea why. Teresa clearly needed a lesson in obedience, but now was not the time, and Miami was not the place. She hoped her daughter counted herself lucky for both of those things. Rafe looked like someone had used him for batting practice. One of his eyes was swollen, his nose was bloody and there was a dark bruise forming under his chin. He moved gingerly as if his ribs bothered him. His hand was the worst--he had broken fingers and the whole hand was swollen and black and blue. But he stood before her without cowering, which was more than she expected after the kind of beating Teresa delivered. Teresa, for her part, looked fresh as a daisy. Her movements were a bit off, but that was to be expected when one was clocked with a chair. Teresa had told her all about the fight with her brother. Rafe was getting inventive as he grew up. He had certainly surprised his sister. She wished she could have seen their fight. Usually Teresa demolished her younger brother; she was in better shape than he was, being better fed and stronger. But tonight, Rafe had been marginally successful in defending himself. From both of their accounts, Teresa had gotten the upper hand early, like she always did, slamming him against the wall and punching him in the face and ribs. But he'd tried to get past her, and when he'd lunged at her she kicked him back so he landed on his knees. And that's when he picked up a chair and bludgeoned her with it. He'd hightailed it out of there, but Teresa followed after him, slinging a beer bottle at his head. Samara could see and smell the blood drying on his neck beneath his dark hair. He'd gone down, losing his footing down the steps. He'd tried to stop his fall by catching his hand on the stairs. That was when Teresa had stomped on his hand and broken a couple of his fingers. Samara imagined it must have hurt quite a bit. Teresa had kicked him in the face, catching him under his chin if the bruise there was an indication. Then she'd taken off.

She felt a small burn of pride. They were getting so violently inventive in the ways they hurt each other as they grew up. Samara had allowed Teresa to speak first, as she usually did. Teresa's story and her motives were mostly fabrication and everyone in the room knew it. The fight rang true and that was about the only truth to be had in anything she said. It was obvious that Teresa had disregarded her orders because she was angry and jealous that Rafe had gotten the plum job of scoping out Miami. Teresa didn't see it for what Samara and Rafe knew it was: his last chance. All she saw was her baby brother getting an opportunity she hadn't been given. Teresa had gone off half-cocked, as was her habit. And now they'd made a mess of things. Four werehyenas were out of commission in one night—one of them dead. She could afford to lose one; they were a big pack, but it didn't mean she had to like it. Those with Teresa had been talented. Samara was angry with her daughter for causing their injuries, for giving away their position in Miami and for putting her in an uncomfortable situation. She'd address all of this with her daughter later. She would not do it in front of Rafe. As for him, he stared at her, amber eyes flat as he watched her. He did not whine or call his sister out on her lies. He merely waited for Samara's words. At least he'd learned something from the lessons she'd taught him. "Well, Rafe?" He shook dark hair out of his eyes. It was shaggy. He should get a haircut soon, she thought. His words were soft but firm when he spoke. "Teresa had no business being there, but I'm not going to debate that now." "What do you propose to do?" Samara was interested despite herself. "I'm beginning to wonder why I don't just feed you both to the alligators." Some mothers might joke about such things, but her children knew it for the threat it was. That wiped the smug look off of Teresa's face. Her daughter was becoming far too complacent in her standing within the pack. It might be time to shake her up a bit. Such maneuvering helped to keep Samara in power--it made it harder for a cohesive stand to be made against her when no one could rival her own standing within the pack. Humiliation was a wonderful tool when wielded properly. "Teresa's mistake tonight showed us something." Samara saw the look Teresa shot Rafe at his remark and hid a smile. The boy would pay for that later. Samara could tell Rafe knew it and

he didn't appear bothered by it. "The two strangers with them--not leopards and not the jaguars. You said you didn't know what they were." At Samara's nod, he continued. "They fought with bronze knives. At least that's what it looked like from where I was." Samara's studied disinterest dissolved at her son's words. Bronze knives? No one used bronze knives anymore, not when guns were so readily available and easy to come by. There was only one group that would have any reason to fight with bronze knives and their presence in Miami only served to complicate things further. The Eaters were in town. "Are you sure that's what you saw?" Rafe nodded. "As sure as I can be. And they were good too--they took out Teresa's girls in just a minute or two." She saw Teresa scowl but ignored her daughter. Rafe was observant and that was useful. Teresa hadn't noticed or mentioned the two fighters, more concerned with getting her side of the story out there and covering her own ass. Rafe had provided actual intelligence. Samara knew who these two were that Rafe spoke of--the two guests that had been there the night she had confronted Kess about Sek's death and gained permission to stay in Miami until his memorial. Mebis and Laila. "Describe them." She'd provided her son with intelligence and descriptions on everyone in the house. She wanted her suspicions confirmed now. "The guy isn't real tall, maybe five foot nine or ten. Lean build. Dark hair and goatee. He stayed near Kess the whole time. The girl is young, maybe sixteen or seventeen. Dark hair, long. Nothing really noticeable about either of them. But they know how to fight, that's for sure. The girl fought next to a big guy, but she was better than he was. They helped me out of the club after Teresa." Samara nodded. Definitely Mebis and Laila then. So they were Eaters. What on earth they were doing meeting with Sekhmet, and why they were sticking with Kess were questions she wanted answers to quickly. She'd make a point to sit near them at the memorial. She had a number of things to discuss with these new players in town. If she could discover what they were doing here, and convince the jaguars to back her play, she'd be set up in Miami in a week's time. She just had to figure out a way to control the situation. "I want both of you to stay out of sight. This was a disaster tonight. I'll deal with the two of you when I return."

Samara knew that they would never find Kess unprotected again. Rafe's mission had proven a failure, although it was not entirely his fault. And he had managed to mitigate his failure with the information about the two Eaters in Kess' group. Still he would need to be punished for it, and she needed time to think of something suitable. And Teresa would need a reminder in how to follow orders. "Mother, I…" Teresa began, but Samara snarled at her. "I said leave me! Unless you'd like me to feed you to the leopards myself!" Teresa followed Rafe out the door, leaving Samara gratefully alone with her thoughts.

Chapter Twenty-Seven She was sitting at the hotel's bar, sipping a Sapphire martini. Samara loved the art deco building, the fine furnishings, and the lovely people milling about. None were as lovely as she, but she thought it a fitting backdrop for her meeting with the werejackal. Let him see how well she fit in and make his own judgments. Let him see her in the right light; how much she belonged here. She'd be wasted elsewhere. She'd suggested a meeting with him after the debacle at the night club. She had been surprised that he had taken her up on her offer immediately. She'd expected a bit more back and forth, but Mebis had suggested a time and place readily. Samara took it as a good sign. She hadn't had much cause to deal with werejackals, let alone what she suspected Mebis might be, so she wasn't entirely sure what to expect at the meeting. A new cocktail appeared next to her half-finished one. The bartender pointed to a handsome older gentleman at the far side of the bar. He was staring at Samara, who smiled graciously at him. This was how it should be for her--men buying her expensive drinks, not lukewarm cans of PBR. She thought he might come over to speak with her, a welcome distraction until her real appointment showed up, when she saw his face fall. Samara turned in her chair. Mebis had slid into the empty chair beside her and was signaling the bartender. He ordered a scotch, neat. Once the bartender had dropped the drink next to him, he turned to her and said, "You wished a meeting?" She smiled at him, taking a sip of her martini. It allowed her to chance to get a better look at Mebis. He was much younger than she was, only a few years older than Teresa, although his goatee added a bit of maturity to his thin face. He was slim and shorter than she was. There was nothing overtly threatening about him; you'd overlook him in a crowd. But this man and his sister had demolished some of her best female fighters in a matter of moments. He was not to be underestimated. "I'm honored you could join me." She gave him a sidelong glance that usually got men interested. Mebis just stared back at her, leaning back in her chair.

"I'm curious," Mebis said, eyes scanning the bar crowd. "What could you possibly have to meet with me about? I'm rather insignificant in all of this." Oh, he was going to play dumb, was that it? "I wouldn't classify you or your sister as insignificant. Keepers are never thought of as such in my pack." It was a wild guess, but she thought things would go smoother if most of the cards were laid out on the table early. She still reserved one or two for emergencies. Mebis raised on eyebrow. "And where on earth did you ever hear about the Keepers? And why would you think my sister and I have anything to do with them?" Samara leaned forward. "Bronze knives are not something every werejackal carries around. I've heard enough rumors to know what to look for. And Sek's death along with your presence here is a little too convenient. I don't believe in coincidences." "What do you believe in then?" He sounded intrigued. "Specifically? Power. But you knew that, didn't you?" Mebis inclined his head. "I did. But that still doesn't explain why you wanted to meet with me." Samara bared her teeth. "I have a proposal for you and your associates. I want Miami. And I'll get it too. That little girl isn't prepared to do what is necessary to hold this territory. It's only a matter of time until someone takes it from her." "And that someone will be you?" A small smile played around his lips. Samara frowned. "Yes." She took another sip of her martini. "I'm afraid I still am unclear where I--and my supposed associates--come in." She grinned at Mebis over the rim of her glass. "I'm offering you an alliance. If you help me remove certain obstacles, I'll happily share Miami with you and yours. The jaguars are already with me." She was exaggerating; the werejaguars hadn't agreed to anything yet. They were cautious, wanting to see what Kess was made of before throwing their lot in with Samara. But she knew they would come around eventually. "Are they indeed?" At her nod, he settled back in his chair, thoughtful. "That's very interesting." "It's all in place. All I have to do is say the word and Miami is mine. Join with me and we can split the wealth of it!"

Mebis steepled his hands, index fingers in front of his nose. "Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war, eh?" "Excuse me?" Samara had no idea what he was talking about. But the werejackal was shaking his head. "Never mind." He leaned closer. "I must say, I am surprised to find you offering up an alliance so quickly. Wasn't it your people in the club last night?" Samara forced herself to smile charmingly. It did anger her that she had to play nice with Mebis after what he and his companion had done, but gaining the Keepers as allies outweighed the loss of her pack members. She sublimated her anger--if Teresa hadn't been such an idiot and sent the girls in against her orders, they would never have been in the position to be killed in the first place. And if Rafe hadn't been so useless in the first place, she wouldn't have needed to send him to Miami to get rid of him. "An unfortunate misunderstanding. Sometimes my orders are...misinterpreted." She gave him a tight smile. "I'm sure that's frustrating for you." His voice was smooth, revealing nothing. "It is," she conceded, finishing off her cocktail and reaching for the fresh one. "It doesn't happen very often, thankfully." "I'm sure it doesn't. But still, let me offer my condolences." Samara wondered if he was mocking her, but his face gave nothing away. He was perfectly relaxed and easy, his voice calm. "Thank you." She gritted her teeth, then reminded herself that she was in control of the situation. "To answer your question, I am a practical woman. There is more to be gained from an alliance than from revenge." "Very wise." She thought she heard approval in his voice. She nodded. "Do we have a deal?" Mebis got up, placing down cash to cover their drinks. "I will need to speak with my associates before I am able to give you a definitive answer." He walked around to her chair and took her hand in a firm grip. "But I think it safe to say that we have the best interests of Miami at heart." "Excellent. I look forward to your phone call." "I'll be in touch."

Samara watched him go, a lean flash in a linen suit. She turned back around to the bartender and signaled for another martini. Things were working out brilliantly.

Chapter Twenty-Eight Finn was waiting by the pool when Laila came out for her morning swim. He didn't want to admit it to himself but he was a touch nervous. He needed to talk to Laila. He had wanted to do so last night, but things had gotten away from him. It had been a long night rehashing the events at the club, preparing for future attacks, and trying to keep everything under control with the jaguars. He had a lot of questions that only Laila could answer. He just wasn’t sure if he wanted them answered anymore. Where had she learned to fight like that? Finn was good in a brawl, but he wasn't trained to disarm people like she was. Or to take people down with one blow. When he started thinking about her moving on the dance floor, striking out at those women, his thoughts turned to Sekhmet’s death and the missing heart. He hadn't even known she carried a weapon. Had Sek known? Or did he just find out too late? He looked up to see Laila crossing the lawn from the guest house, a large towel draped over one shoulder. She moved with an easy grace. Finn had seen it last night when they were dancing, and later when she was fighting. Laila always looked like she was ready to burst into motion at the drop of a hat. It wasn't that she was guarded or scared; it was a feeling of tightly wound power that could explode at any time. After what he witnessed last night, he wasn't sure if he ever wanted that directed at him. Still, there was something fascinating about her. Finn had never been interested in a girl this much. He usually got what he wanted and the bloom was off the rose. But Laila was something he'd never encountered before—a spicy mix of danger and sex appeal that made him wary as much as it attracted him. She dropped her towel on a lounge chair and cocked a hip at him. He must have had an odd look on his face because her brow furrowed. "What?" "What what?" "You're looking at me all weird." She put a hand on her hip and stared down at him. Finn felt himself flushing. Sweet Jesus, it was like he was in middle school again, talking to a girl he had a crush on. Not good. "No I'm not."

Laila rolled her eyes. "So what's your problem?" She didn't wait to hear, just dove into the water. When she came up, Finn said, "I was wondering how you were doing with everything that happened last night. We didn't get much of a chance to talk once we got back to the house." "I'm fine. How are you?" She sounded utterly unaffected by the events of last night. "A little confused. You want to tell me where you learned those moves?"He tried to keep his voice light and level. "Are you jealous of my mad salsa skillz?" She grinned at him. "Laila..." Finn chided, not wanting to make jokes. She held up her hands, smile gone. "I've had some training okay. That's it. No big deal." "And that knife you had?" Was it the knife? The one that killed Sek? Her chin came up. He noticed that it always did when she felt challenged. "What about it?" "Sek was killed with a knife." Finn didn’t ask a question because it implied he might want an answer. Laila floated in the pool on her back, not looking at him. "What are you trying to ask me, Finn?" "I don't know." But he did know what he should ask her. He wasn't sure he was ready to know the answer. Laila swam over to the side of the pool and looked up at him. Her eyes were clear and hard. "Trust me, Finn. You want to let this go." He did. Completely. But that was what he usually did. When things got hard or uncomfortable, he bailed. He didn't like complicated, so he didn't do it. He didn't like difficult, so he avoided it. But this wasn't a one-night stand come back to haunt him, or a class he was having a hard time passing. This was life and death--and not just his. He had Kess and Cormac to think about. "If I ask, will you tell me the truth?" Laila was silent, thinking. After a few quiet minutes, she nodded. "When you ask, I'll tell you the truth. As much as I can." "Fair enough." He was relieved to let it drop. For now.

Chapter Twenty-Nine "Where have you been?" Laila sprawled on the sofa, one foot on the floor as she bounced her leg up and down in time to the music on the television. She sat up when her brother came through the front door. She'd been edgy since he left. When he spoke, it was not with an answer she expected. "I met with Samara." Laila came all the way up, eyes wide. She had known Mebis was going off-site for a meeting and that's why she needed to distract Finn—no great hardship there—but she'd assumed it was for Keeper business. Not to have a sit down with the werehyena leader. "Why?" Mebis sat down on the arm of the couch. "She had a proposition for us." "Us? As in you and me?" He smiled at her. "Us, as in Keepers, pest." "Spill it." Laila folded her feet under her and sat up straight, anxious to hear what had gone on at the meeting. Her brother looked hesitant, something she didn't remember seeing in a very long time. "I need to check in first." Laila sighed. She'd had enough of being kept in the dark. She had some ideas of why they were still here, but they were vague things. She didn't want to trade on the fact that she was Mebis’ sister, but she would if it got her some answers. "Mebis, seriously, what is going on? Why are we still here? And why aren't you telling me anything?" "I can't. Laila, you know how it is." "No, I don't, Mebis." She tried to keep the sarcasm out of her voice and was moderately successful. "I'm supposed to be your partner on this mission, right? Then why are you keeping me in the dark? Are you trying to get me killed?" Mebis narrowed his eyes at her. It wasn't a glare, but it was close. Laila stared back at him, deadly serious for once. She knew Mebis wasn't deliberately trying to get her killed, but lack of information was dangerous, especially in a situation as precarious as this one. He knew that. She hadn't expected to need to remind him of that. "Please, Meb, I've passed my initiation. Give me some credit here."

He looked away. "It's not my decision to make, Laila. You know that." Laila gritted her teeth in frustration and tried to remain calm. She felt like she was being hung out to dry. "Fine. I'll just cool my heels here until someone sees fit to tell me exactly what the hell I'm supposed to be doing." She ran a hand through her hair. "I should have been on a plane home after this job. If I'm supposed to be bait, it would be nice to know it." She got up to go into the bedroom, sick of talking about it when it wasn't getting her anywhere. "Wait a sec." Mebis sounded tired. Laila stopped but didn't turn around. "Come on back and sit down." "Are you going to tell me what's going on or are you going to feed me another line?" "Sit down, pest." Mebis waited for her to stalk back to the couch and get seated before he began. "First off, you performed your initiation beautifully. The council is very happy with you." Laila kept her mouth shut. She didn't want to derail Mebis with a smartass comment. She needed to know what was going on. "Our mission objectives changed once Sekhmet was dispatched. Ordinarily, yes, you would have been on a plane out of here. But it was decided that we should stay—that I should, really— and evaluate Kess." "Evaluate how? As a target or as something else?" She almost added, as your girlfriend?, but thought better of it. But it hadn't escaped her notice how often her brother looked at Kess. "As a leader. I'm to assess whether or not she can hold the territory. Miami is pretty important to us--it's a major area and if it should become destabilized, or worse, fall into the wrong hands, we might have a real problem to deal with." "That doesn't explain why I'm still here." Laila knew Miami was an important city, even if she had no idea why or what the implications were. At least Mebis was confirming what she had suspected. "I need you. You are an excellent distraction—" "Gee, thanks." She made a sour face. He nudged her arm."Don't mention it--and with you here it divides their focus. I get to see how her mind works as she tries to puzzle her way through all of this. You didn't have orders to stay or go. That was at my discretion. And I'd never use you as bait, no matter how much you may annoy me." She chucked a pillow at her brother's head. "So what about Samara?"

"Things get more complicated, I'm afraid. She wants Miami. Badly. The council had already determined that allowing the hyenas to run things is not an option we can allow. If Kess can't handle this herself, we'll have to remove her and put someone of our own choosing in power." "She can't." Laila dismissed the young wereleopard with a sniff. "I wouldn't be too sure of that." Mebis grinned. "I don't get what is so fascinating about her. She's got all of you guys shuffling around her like you’re her servants or something. And she would have been dead in that fight last night." She really didn't understand why everyone was so impressed with Kess. She hadn't even killed anything yet. She couldn't explain why she was so venomously opposed to Kess in general terms, but she was. Part of it was because of Kess leaving her family—it just felt disloyal to Laila. Part of it was Laila's general dislike of anyone she deemed unable to pull their own weight. And part of it may have just been that they were too close in age and too strong in personalities to ever be friends. Laila didn't feel like analyzing where her dislike came from. It was there and that was it. She'd made her judgment and was bewildered as to why all of the guys around her didn't agree. Was it because she was tall and pretty? Pretty wouldn't help in a gunfight. "Hardly." Mebis eyed her, as if debating how much to tell her. Laila gritted her teeth. She was getting good info here, but she probably shouldn't press her luck. "It was my idea to leave the safety of the house. I wanted to see how she would handle a hostile situation in her own territory and I wanted to see who was watching. I think she did beautifully, all things considered." "You used her as bait? In her own city?" Laila looked at her brother with newfound respect. "And that never leaves this room. I wanted to draw out her enemies, and I got a meeting with Samara out of the deal." Laila subsided. "What does she want?" "An alliance. She wants the Keepers to throw in with her. Failing that, she wants us to back off and leave her to it. She'll handle the rest. I said I'd think about it." Mebis ran a hand through his hair. "But it's not going to happen." "Correct. But it gives us a little time. If by some reason Samara does get her claws into Miami, we'll remove her as a problem. But not until then. This is Kess' city to win or lose."

Laila rolled her eyes, letting her brother know unequivocally what she thought the outcome of that would be. He just kept smiling at her with that infuriating look on his face. He waved her toward the door. "Now be a good girl and go and find that hulking behemoth who's always shadowing you and tell him we need a meeting with Kess." "You're going to tell her? That you met with her archenemy? When she already knows one of us probably killed her brother?" "Of course." The smile never left her brother's face. Laila released a small sigh. "There aren't enough guns in the world, brother." She trudged off to find Finn.

Chapter Thirty Finn led Laila and Mebis into Kess' office. He'd been surprised when Laila had come to him to ask him to see if Kess would see her and her brother. There was a lot unsaid between them--a lot of questions still unasked. It made for an awkward conversation. He'd asked her what it was about but all she had to say was it was her brother's show and she was just the messenger. Mebis had important information that he needed to tell Kess immediately. He'd left her to okay everything with Kess, who'd been less than enthused to hear of Laila's request, and then went back to get the werejackals. Cormac, Bomani and Kess were deep in conversation with several other wereleopards. The sky was just darkening to true night outside the windows of the living room where they had gathered to go over some intel that Mebis had for them. Finn wasn't entirely sure when the werejackal had decided to throw himself on their side, but he wasn't complaining. He felt out of his depth here with the complicated plotting of takeovers and defense. He could tell Laila was keyed up and had been since last night. Finn went to join Cormac and Kess, letting the werejackals follow in his wake. Mebis joined them immediately, but Laila hung back. She stayed close enough that Finn knew she would hear everything they said. The wereleopards were going over their plans to secure the city. They had eyes on Samara's hotel and knew that she was remaining in town, but they also knew she was funneling in others of her pack, despite Kess' orders. The attack in the club had been proof of that. Finn shook his head. The problem was they had no idea how many hyenas were already in the city or what their endgame was. Well, they knew what Samara wanted—Kess dead—but not how she was planning to do it. "Sekhmet knew this was coming," Kess murmured, squeezing the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. "He had to have made provisions for it." She looked at Bomani. The clan counselor mentioned a few of the ideas Sek had been toying with, and outlined the plans already in place. The problem with implementing anything was that the leopard clan was small. Sek hadn't wanted to risk sorties into Samara's territory because he didn't want to lose

anyone. Every cat was too valuable to risk on anything other than a sure thing. They didn't even have an accurate number of how many hyenas Samara could bring to bear against them. "Damn it, Sek. Why did you have to dump all of it in my lap? I didn't want any of this." Kess ran a hand through her hair. Finn could tell she was frustrated. This couldn't be an easy situation to be thrown into—trying to figure out how to win a were-war while still a new leader who had been away from her clan for years was a daunting task. "Suck it up, princess." Laila's voice was soft, but carried to the small group. She sounded angry, as if Kess’ words triggered something in her. Finn resisted the urge to drop his head into his hand. He knew Laila wasn't a fan of Kess for whatever reason, but now was not the time to bring it up. "Excuse me?" Kess' voice was sharp. "I said suck it up. You can’t run away from it this time." Laila squared off, and Finn glared at her in an effort to keep her quiet. He saw Mebis doing the same. "Looks like you’re going to need to clean up your own mess." "What did you just say?" Her words were soft, but the ice Kess put in it was palpable. There was a hint of warning in her tone, but Laila ignored it. "I said maybe if you'd been here, things wouldn’t have gotten so bad. But you just left and ran away from your family. Your home. And now the hyenas are going to take it." Laila stood up, hand on one hip. Kess turned to face her. Mebis warned, "Laila…" but his sister ignored him. Kess' eyes narrowed as she swept the werejackal with her gaze. "Do you have any idea why I left?" Laila waved her hand."Probably something stupid. What, you didn't get the car you wanted for your sixteenth birthday?" She shrugged dismissively. Kess began to walk towards Laila and everyone moved out of her way. She never raised her voice above that soft tone, but her presence seemed to intensify, forcing everyone away from her. Finn had never seen it on display before. She stalked Laila, who just stood there, not afraid in the slightest, even though everyone, including her brother, was drawing away. Finn had never considered Kess very threatening in her human form before. He was reassessing his opinion. Right now, Kess was one scary girl. He could see the animal that she

turned into coming closer to the surface, and wondered if Laila knew how close she was to having some very sharp teeth wrapped around her pretty little throat. "Hardly." Kess’ mouth was pulled up in a hard line, but she never raised her voice above a whisper. Finn saw Laila squint, as if realizing what kind of situation she was in. But it didn't stop her from opening her mouth. "Whatever. You left behind a pretty sweet deal here and now you just swan back in and expect everyone else to hand you the city on a silver platter." Kess straightened as though she'd been slapped. Then a slow smile spread across her face-Finn had seen a similar smile once before, when she'd called him on his crap at the restaurant where she worked--but this time there was no humor in it. She looked down at her nails casually, almost like a cat playing with a mouse. "Yes, it was a pretty sweet deal, what with my brother trying to rape me when I was sixteen." Her eyes flashed up to meet Laila's startled face. Oh boy. Laila looked like she finally understood how big of a mistake she'd just made. Kess' mouth turned down in a frown. "I can't imagine why I didn't stay in the loving bosom of my family after that." She turned and walked a few paces away from Laila. Finn's eyes scanned the room. Cormac looked stricken, Bomani was impassive as usual, but Mebis was watching the proceedings keenly with a hint of amusement on his face. He seemed to have no interest in helping his sister extricate herself from her uncomfortable position. Finn turned his attention back to the two girls. Laila's mouth had closed in a hard line and the look on her face promised mayhem. But who it would be directed at and how badly she'd blow would be anybody's guess. One thing Finn had learned about Laila: she wasn't big on impulse control. Kess turned her head, so she was looking at Laila when she let the next barb fly. "Perhaps you should be sure of the facts before you open your mouth and make a complete ass out of yourself." "You're such a pathetic bitch." Laila was quiet, watching Kess. Kess smiled coldly. "And you're nothing but a loud-mouthed, stupid, murdering brat. No wonder you got along with my brother. You had so much in common." She turned, dismissing Laila with her gesture.

That was all it took. Laila growled, baring her teeth. She rushed at Kess. The wereleopard spun to meet her. Kess had already started to transform. Finn was caught flat-footed, unsure of what to do. He had seen how well Laila could fight and he had seen Kess handle herself in leopard form. He knew he should stop them, but he also didn't want to interpose himself between the two of them. That was insanity. Mebis had no such qualms. Finn watched him grab Laila from behind, pinning her arms behind her and avoiding the back of her head as she tried to smack it into his face. He turned her away from Kess who stopped herself short and ceased her transformation. Finn saw her eyes returning to normal and her bared fangs disappear. Laila still struggled against Mebis and Finn went over to him to try and help calm her down. "Get her out of my sight!" Kess ordered, her voice harsh. She was breathing heavily, but kept herself contained otherwise. Mebis and Finn moved to the door. Finn got a hand on Laila's arm and pulled her away from Mebis. "I've got her." Mebis raised his eyebrows in surprise. "You need to go over whatever information you've got. I'll take her somewhere where she can calm down." "I'm right fucking here, you know," Laila practically shouted. Finn saw Mebis put his face close to hers. "Go with him, pest." There was a dangerous edge to his voice and Finn was reminded that he was just as deadly as Laila. "NOW. I'll fix your mess." Laila dropped her eyes in defeat, allowing Finn to steer her out the door.

Chapter Thirty-One Laila and Finn walked along a stretch of deserted beach. A few palm trees demarcated the boundary between the sand’s edge and the city proper. Wind off the water rustled her hair and his clothes. Laila enjoyed the quiet, especially after the upheaval that was taking place in the wereleopard compound. And some of it was her fault. Most of it, actually. Mebis had stayed to smooth over her mistakes. She knew she had screwed up. Royally. Galatically. You don’t call the new head of the wereleopard clan a sniveling bitch in front of her most of her people and expect to walk away unscathed. She knew better than to go off like a hothead. But hearing Kess bemoan her lot like someone should have handed everything to her in a neat package had put Laila’s back up. So she had said something about it. Even if Sek wasn’t the model of mental stability, Kess couldn’t have expected him to fix everything on the off chance she decided to come back. But then she’d been told what really happened between the siblings and the real reason for Kess leaving. Her assumptions about Kess had turned out to be wrong. Laila hadn’t liked Sek, but she’d had no idea he was that bad. And Laila had thrown him in Kess’ face as if she had any idea of what she talking about. Laila had managed to embarrass herself pretty spectacularly in a room full of people. Including her brother. She still didn’t like Kess. But she understood her motivations a little better. Not that it helped now. She took a deep breath and released it. “Well, shit.” She dropped down to sit in the sand. Finn stopped, looking down at her, then he laughed. “You really screwed the pooch, didn’t you?” She kicked sand at him. “You can go straight to hell.” He sat down next to her, still chuckling. “Eventually.” “How bad would you say I screwed up?” Laila peeked at him from the corner of her eye. He faced her, all laughter gone. “If it were me and you were a guy? I’d probably be ordering you out of Miami after I’d handed you your ass.” Some of her natural bravado came back. “Oh yeah? Pack a lunch then.”

“What is it with you?” Finn exploded. “Can’t you give the whole ‘I’m such a badass’ thing a rest once in a while?” “Huh?” “Man, Laila. It’s getting old, this proving yourself thing. Is it because you’re short? Or is it because you’re a girl? Is that why you’ve got such a big damn chip on your shoulder?” “Excuse me?” Laila was getting mad. How dare he talk to her this way? “You heard me.” He faced her, eyes hard. “What are you going to do about it—bite my kneecaps off?” Laila moved to stand but Finn pulled her back down. “You were way over the line tonight, and you know it. But instead of acting like an adult about it, you’re throwing temper tantrums. If you want a seat at the big kid’s table, you’re going to have to start acting like one.” Laila pulled away from Finn but didn’t try to stand up again. He continued. “Mebis is having to clean up your mess because you went and shot your mouth off about something you knew absolutely NOTHING about.” He paused then spoke in a lower, calmer voice, “The thing about having an enormous chip on your shoulder is that everyone is going to knock it off. They can’t help it because it gets in the way. Of everything.” She concentrated on brushing sand from her legs. Finn’s words bounced around in her head. Her whole life had been about proving herself, to her family, to the Keepers, to her friends. But maybe she’d been trying to prove something to herself. Could she have been focusing on the wrong thing this whole time? There was something in what Finn was telling her—she judged people first, dismissing them, before they could judge her. She was expecting the worst out of people and she usually just showed the worst side of herself. She knew she was trying too hard, but this was her initiation into the Keepers. It was what she'd wanted her entire life. Was she really making it so difficult for herself? Laila chewed on her lower lip as she thought about the last couple of days in Miami. She’d been walking around, loaded for bear, just itching to start something. Looking for trouble. Mebis, in contrast, never wavered from his even keel, never drew unwanted attention to himself. God, she felt stupid. “So can you tell me what happened?” she asked softly. Maybe there was some way she could fix all this. “Some of it, but most of it is Kess’ story to tell. You already know what Sek tried to do to her when she lived here. She was on the run for a while before she came north and met us. Sek

came looking for her. He tried to bring her back here by force and he tried to kill Cormac. Silver knife and everything. Anyway, Kess and Sek duked it out in cat form and she tore him a new one--she almost killed him.” “But she left him alive after all he’d done?” Weak right there. Finn nodded. “Pretty sure she didn’t want to be responsible for the death of her brother, no matter how horrible he was.” He sighed. “And here we are. He’s still screwing with her even when he’s dead. Great guy.” Laila winced. She'd had no idea what she was saying when she shot her mouth off. She had thought Kess was a spoiled rich girl, used to being pampered and cosseted. She was amazed that Kess had left Sekhmet alive after everything he'd done. Was she really so weak that she'd leave an enemy alive? Then Laila stopped looking at it in terms of Kess' possible shortcomings, and tried to view it from a different angle. Sek hadn't just been her enemy; he was her brother too. Would Laila be able to kill Mebis if it came down to it? Would she have it in her to kill a brother she grew up with and loved like no one else, even if he had done terrible things? And would she like what she would turn into if she could do it? Maybe Kess wasn’t as weak as she thought. She brushed more sand from her legs and looked out over the water. There was a group of people walking along the beach--two couples. Laila watched as they walked closer up the beach, then turned back to Finn. “I should probably wait until things calm down before going back, right?” “You think?” When she smacked his arm, he grinned. “Let’s go see if there’s someplace that’s open twenty-four hours. I’m starving.” Finn stood and offered his hand. Laila took it. Finn pulled her up from the sand and didn't let her hand go. Laila felt good when she was with him. He was just so easy to be with. He didn't try to turn her into something she wasn't. And he called her on her crap, which was kind of refreshing. Rey had never done that. Only her family did. It was interesting that he felt he could, especially after seeing a small part of what she was capable of in a fight. She was beginning to realize how much tempering she still had left to do. Master Toshi had been right; she could learn a lot from her brother and not just about fighting. Mebis was cool and collected. Laila tended to go around randomly blowing up at stuff because she was so sure she

was right. Tonight had shown her that her initial judgments weren't always correct. Mebis waited and watched, forming and revising his opinions as he went. Laila wondered if Finn had a girlfriend back home. If he did, he didn't talk about her and he had no qualms about spending time with Laila while they were both here. She tried to picture the usual girl he dated and found she couldn't complete the exercise. She felt her heart speed up. Laila liked him. She recognized the signs. And here they were, the smell of the ocean all around them, the breeze off the water at their backs, the crescent moon above them. It was a great night to be out and young and at loose ends. They walked hand in hand, the hotels now obscured by the palm trees lining the beach. Laila stopped for a moment. Finn stopped beside her, looking down on her with a question in his eyes. She felt a rush surge through her and realized that it was now or never. She fisted her hands in his shirt and pulled his mouth down to hers. His mouth slanted across hers and he leaned forward as she was stretching up to deepen the kiss. It started out gently, a little tentative. It didn't stay that way for long. Laila hadn't had any physical touch that wasn't related to violence since Rey. Finn didn't seem to mind as she pulled him closer to her; in fact, she felt him chuckle against her lips. Then he was kissing her back roughly and she didn't care if he laughed. He could quote the completed works of Shakespeare so long as he didn't stop kissing her. She pulled him down, both of them settling into the sand. Her hands released his shirt, sliding up strong shoulders, into thick hair. His hands wrapped around her waist, pulling her tight against him and she molded herself to him, wanting to obliterate the empty space between them. This was what she'd been missing for months. Finn broke away from her and she nearly growled in disappointment. "You don't have a boyfriend back home, do you?" "No. You?" Her voice sounded high and breathless to her ears. "No, no boyfriend." He grinned. She grinned back. "Ass." "Brat." He kissed her again, this time on her neck just beneath her earlobe. Laila clenched her teeth tightly to keep from snapping her jaws in pleasure. That was excellent--except that it meant she couldn't taste him and that's what she really wanted.

She pulled back and whispered, "Break's over," the words an echo of their first time on the motorcycle. Her lips found his then, greedy and demanding. The sound of a gun being cocked broke the mood. Laila turned, eyes narrowed to find two guns pointed at her and Finn. Laila looked into the barrel of an automatic fitted with a suppressor and slowly moved away from her companion. Five faces stared back at them: three women, two men. Only two guns visible. Laila liked these odds. But then she looked at Finn. Problem. "Get up," one of the gun-toting women said. The other woman with a gun moved behind Finn. Laila did. So did Finn. "Keep walking, nice and slow,” the one behind Finn hissed, nudging him with the gun to keep moving. They followed the two men who took the lead. The woman without the gun brought up the rear with the two other women and Laila and Finn in the center. Laila got a good look at all of them. Gorgeous, each and every one. Hyenas. “Where are we going?” Laila asked. “Just keep walking and shut up. We’ll tell you when to turn.” Laila looked at Finn out of the corner of her eye. His mouth was set in a hard line and he looked to be concentrating. He mouthed, "Change," at her, but she frowned. So Finn was a were. If he wanted to change, she could buy him some time to do so. But she had a much better idea. She blinked at him, trying to signal him to wait for her mark. Laila saw his brows draw down in confusion and she flicked her eyes to the sides, trying to indicate the three women behind them. Then she glared at him and glanced at the two men in front of them. He nodded like he understood. She hoped he did, otherwise he would probably wind up shot. Laila winked slowly at him and he flashed a grin. Well, if she had to be stuck out here with someone who wasn't Mebis, at least she got someone who could keep their cool in a crisis. It would be a whole different ballgame if she had to deal with someone who needed their hand held. Or worse, did something stupid like degenerate into hysterics. Laila stopped walking. "Yeah, I don't think I'm going anywhere with you." She put her hand on her hip. A gun pushed at her back. "You'll keep moving and do as we say."

"Or what? You'll shoot me? Please." Laila was going for her most annoying. She wanted all eyes on her and away from Finn. He'd be vulnerable when he changed. "If you wanted us dead, we'd be dead. You want us alive. "And I'm not going anywhere with you losers." The guy in front of her punched her in the face. She let him. She even threw in a stagger for good measure. Blood was flooding into her mouth and that's what she'd been after, beside buying Finn a space of time. Blood did strange things to her. Already she could feel her vision sharpening. Her breathing evened out, slowing down. The world seemed to slow with it. She saw Finn drop, his change taking him and then he was a grey wolf, dashing at the guy who'd hit her. She was already spinning out of the way of the gun at her back, grabbing that woman's wrist. She forced the woman's arm around. Aiming the gun at the woman's counterpart, she forced the woman she was holding to fire. Both guns went off. The second woman's mark, aimed at the wolf, went wide. Laila's didn't miss. And Laila kept firing, even as the woman fell, emptying the clip into her body. The woman she held struggled against her. Laila elbowed her in the face. The woman fell away from her, hands over her broken nose. Laila didn't bother with the empty gun. Instead she rolled for the gun in the dead woman's hand before the third woman tried to go for it. She came up, already aiming and had to roll again as a hyena lunged at her. There was no sign of the third woman, so she must have been the one to change. She caught a glimpse of the wolf--Finn--fighting off one hyena while the other man lay stunned in the sand. The wolf seemed to be doing okay, so she turned back to her own hyena issues. Her hyena was recovering from the miss, seeming to move in slow motion. She sighted and squeezed off a round, catching her hyena in the chest in mid-run. It dropped. Laila got up and put another bullet in the thing's head. The one remaining woman was up again and she had a knife in her hand. Laila laughed. The grip was all wrong and so was the woman's stance. "Seriously?" Laila pointed the gun at her and fired twice. The woman fell, dead before she hit the sand. Laila turned. Finn had one hyena by the throat. As she watched, he got a good grip on the hyena and wrenched upwards, tearing the beast's throat open with a huge spray of red blood and mess. Finn swung his head around to find the other man.

Laila already had him. He had changed into a hyena and was racing across the sands. Laila raised the gun and squeezed off a shot, making sure she only grazed the creature. It yelped, a weird laughing sort of bark and kept on running. She wanted him to return to Samara. She had no doubt that he wouldn't last long once he reported. She walked over to Finn and said with a smile, "Are you just going to stand there and bleed all night?” She tucked the gun in the back of her skirt and pulled her blouse down over them. Finn changed back, standing naked before her. “It’s not my blood,” he said as soon as he was human again. Her eyes skimmed over his naked body and the grin she gave him was her wickedest. "Shame we got interrupted." Finn didn't grin back like she thought he would. Odd. She waved him toward the ocean. “Rinse off your face while I try and find you something to wear. It’s bad enough we’re leaving bodies behind.” She raced off, searching for something that would pass for clothing or at least cover. She saw him head down to the shoreline so at least he was following her instructions. He had washed all of the hyena blood off of his face and chest when she ran up to him with a dingy towel. “Best I could do,” she gasped, throwing it at him. “Come on.” She pulled at his arm to get him moving. "Werewolf, huh?" He was focused on wrapping the towel around his waist. "Told you I wasn't Kess’ clan." They walked briskly toward the car. She’d gathered up all of the pieces of Finn's tattered clothes that she could find and shoved these into the back seat while Finn pulled the car onto the road and headed back to the house. She was trying to leave as little traces of them as possible. Now that there wasn't the threat of impending death, she had a few minutes to think. She hoped the wereleopards had a cleaner crew that could dispose of the bodies before they were discovered. Finn drove in silence. Laila sat beside him, breaking the guns down and putting them back together absently, checking clips and chambers. Her mind strayed over the events of the night and what she else they'd need to do to make sure that the carcasses weren't discovered. She was barely even looking at the weapons in her hands; her fingers knew what to do and this was a kind of mindless exercise that calmed her down. When everything was reassembled, she put them down in her lap.

"Who do you think they were?" Finn asked, even though it was pretty obvious who they belonged to. "Samara's crew. I'd bet cash money." Laila tucked the empty gun back in her skirt, but kept the other in hand. "Looks like she decided to ignore Kess' warning. But why try to grab us?" Finn sounded like he had a few ideas of his own. Laila looked at him, measuring what he was saying. It felt like he was using her as a sounding board, which wasn't a bad idea. Laila thought about the different ways the evening's events could play out. She thought about what Samara hoped to gain by grabbing the two of them. Revenge for what happened in the club maybe? She finally spoke after a few minutes. "Leverage would be my first guess." Finn nodded. "Hostages. Bargaining chips." "Possibly information," Laila added, scowling. That was another possibility, especially if the werehyena wanted to know more about the Keeper’s position on Miami. "Samara doesn't seem like the type who'd object to a little torture if she wanted to know something." Then Laila had a thought. "At least we won't get into trouble for the fight back there." Finn arched a brow at her, then grinned. It looked like they both remembered Kess' threat to Samara the night of their arrival. "Kess did say she'd send any uninvited hyenas back in a box." "Boxes," Laila corrected. "I hate leaving them out in the open like that. Hopefully we can get someone out there to take care of the mess. I'm sure Sek had to have something in place with as paranoid as he was." Finn glanced at her, and she wondered what he was thinking. "So you busted out some pretty fierce moves back there." She had a feeling she knew where he was going with this; their conversation after the club came back to her. "I'm thinking there's a lot more going on with you-and your brother-- than you've let on." Laila sat in silence. She wondered how much he was privy to. Kess seemed to be keeping her cards fairly close, so Laila wasn't sure if Finn knew they were Keepers already. It put her in an uncomfortable position. She had no interest in lying to Finn, but she also didn't want to give away information that he would be better off not knowing. Finally Finn came out with it point blank. "Did you kill Sekhmet?" She turned to look at him then. He'd asked her and she had told him she would give him a truthful answer when he did. "Yes."

He didn't say anything for a minute. Her answer hung in the air between them. Laila didn't know what he was thinking. "It's not like you think," she continued, trying to make him understand how it had been. She didn't know why she cared what he thought about her, but she did. She just didn't have any interest in analyzing it right now. "Then tell me. Because, sister, right now, I don't even know what I think." "I think he expected it. He certainly wasn't surprised." She thought about it for a moment. It had always bothered her that Sek hadn't fought her like he should have, not like she expected him to. "I think maybe he wanted it a little bit too." "So who ordered it?" Finn's voice was tight. "I don't know--we usually don't know who hires us, only that we're assigned a target. Sek said he thought it was Bomani. I didn't even know I was going to be the one to do it. I thought we were here for another mission." Laila was carefully watching his face so when a shocked expression crossed it, she got nervous. "What?" "So you were the one to cut out his heart?" At Laila's reluctant nod, he made a disgusted face. "The hell? Why would you do something like that?" Laila stilled. In a soft voice she asked, "How familiar are you with the Keepers of Divine Order?" "The Eaters?" He'd heard of them then. "That's a nickname and an insult. It's not even remotely what we are." "Okay, sorry. The Keepers of Divine Order it is. What does that have to do with the heart?" "It's a really long story and one that outsiders are not supposed to know. The most I can tell you is that I needed the heart as proof of his death." She wanted to tell him more, about the ceremony the heart was used in--the symbolic weighing of the heart and then the burning of it-but knew that would endanger the both of them. Keepers did not share their secret ceremonies with outsiders. Finn was staring at her as if she'd grown a second head. "So Bomani--allegedly--contracted with some goofy cult to get Sek's heart cut out. And you were the one to do it. So why stick around? Why not just fly the coop as soon as the job was done?"

Laila gritted her teeth, resisting the urge to smack Finn upside the head. He was oversimplifying things and it offended her. The Keepers weren't some kind of goofy cult. They performed a service, they were a function of society. There was respect in what they did. She waited until she could answer without taking off his head. "First of all, jackass, don't call the Keepers a cult. You have no idea who or what we are and until you do, I would advise you to keep quiet." She forced herself to calm down. "I didn't know why we stayed--not at first. Mebis got some new orders that had to do with Kess." Finn whipped his head around to glare at her. "What about Kess?" "He's observing her for the Keepers. They want to know if she can hold Miami. That's what he's determining now." "And if he thinks she can't?" Laila shrugged. "I don't know. Mebis hasn't told me everything." "Laila…" Finn's voice held a warning for her. She blew a piece of hair out of her face. "My guess? He's got orders to remove her if he thinks she can’t pull her weight." "And then you'll hand the city over to Samara." His voice was calm, but she could see the storm in Finn's eyes. "NO!" Laila grabbed his arm, forcing him to listen to her. "The Keepers definitely DON'T want the hyenas to have it either. We know they'd destroy the place and worse--they'd bring all kinds of unwanted attention down on all of us. If Kess can't hack it, someone else would be brought in." Finn took his eyes off the road to meet hers. "Do you know where your brother stands? On Kess?" "I'm not sure. He hasn't told me what he's decided--I'm not even sure if he's made up his mind." Laila didn't think it a good idea to say that she thought Mebis was taking a more personal interest in Kess. "I know he likes her more than I do. But that's all I can really say." Finn let out an explosive breath, rolling his eyes. "That tells me absolutely nothing." It kind of pissed her off, until she realized she really didn't tell him anything. Laila had made no secret for how little regard she had for Kess. Anybody, even Samara, liked her more than Laila. "One thing I've got to know. What the hell did you do with the heart?" Laila eyed him cautiously. "Why? Does Kess want it back?"

He pulled a face. "No. I'm just curious. What did you do with it?" "It was needed as proof. Once Mebis confirmed that the job was done, it was disposed of carefully." Laila couldn't tell him what had really happened to the heart, of the ritual burning of the organ. It was a Keeper secret. And she couldn't tell him why the heart was so important either, but he didn't seem interested in that. She saw his eyes flick toward the gun in her lap. She wasn't holding it, but her hand was close to the grip. She tried not to take it in her hand; she doubted that would be very helpful in relaxing Finn, who currently looked wound tighter than a spring. "Are you going to kill me?" Finn asked, gesturing at the gun. He went up in her estimation for how calm it came out. Laila took a moment to think and tweak him a little bit. "Nah," she said, finally. "You're driving." She gave him a wide smile. His eyes left the road for a second and found hers. The skin around them crinkled as he smiled back at her. "Then we're good."

Chapter Thirty-Two Finn pulled the car smoothly into the driveway. Laila was already getting out of the car before he had a chance to put it in park. He sat a moment in the darkness, trying to order his thoughts. He wasn't sure what to focus on first: the hyenas, the fact that Laila was a highly trained killer for hire, that he had made out with her, that she had admitted to killing Sekhmet, or that there was another assassin possibly gunning for Kess. It had been a busy night. He knew that he was going to be meeting with Kess and Cormac, and he had no idea what was going on or what he was going to tell them. Hi, Laila here cut out your brother's heart for some crazy reason for a cult of killers that she and her brother belong to. And, by the way, she just killed three werehyenas that Samara sent to kidnap us for hell if I know the reason and I killed one too so you might want to send a hazmat team out there to deal with the carcasses because those things taste foul! How was your night? He felt crazy just thinking it in his head, let alone saying it out loud. He needed to get changed first. Going in to talk to Kess and Cormac clad only in a towel would do nothing to counter his standing as the family joke. Finn took the keys from the ignition and went into the house to find something less grungy to wear. As he threw on shorts and a tshirt, he remembered the information his father had given him when he'd called a couple of days ago. His father had known about werejackals. Most of it was what Alaric had told Cormac, but he'd told Finn everything he did know when he'd called him. His father had even known a little bit about the Eaters--check that, Keepers--and passed that along as well. With Laila's revelation, it made a little more sense to Finn now. The Keepers were a cabal of werejackals that were used as guns for hire within the were community. They tended to be the problem solvers, coming in to clean up messes before things got out of hand. Griff had even mentioned other, darker rumors of what they did. If what Laila said could be believed, and Finn didn't think she had much reason to lie at this point, his father's information was accurate. They were a powerful force and a dangerous enemy.

His father had told him that throughout history, the Keepers had done some very dark things for what they considered the greater good. They were admired and feared and whispered about. They were looked down on as well--and their reputations as scavengers had morphed over the years. Now it referred to them feeding on the misfortunes of others, be they people, werecreatures, or cities. The Keepers of Divine Order also tended to be the harbingers of collapse, so no one was terribly happy if they showed up. They tore down the existing social orders or corrupt regimes to make way for new ones. And all in the name of balance. Thinking about the Keepers, his mind drifted to Laila. Finn couldn't get a read on her. She was unlike any girl he'd ever met--she even made Kess look uncomplicated by comparison. She was a killer, one of those werejackals his father told him about. But how? She was in high school for God's sake! How could she be able to kill like she did--how did you get to be that lethal before you were old enough to vote? And not just when you were in were form? Finn roamed through the house to find Cormac and Kess. Cormac he found in the kitchen, making a late night snack. Finn grabbed half of his sandwich before he could object. "Where's Kess?" "She was wiped and headed to bed. She hasn't been sleeping well since we got here. What's going on?" "Come on. I've got something I need to talk to the two of you about." Finn grabbed the rest of the sandwich and his cousin's arm and headed to the wing where Kess' bedroom was. "It's not something that can wait until morning?" Cormac looked down at his watch. "Correction--later morning?" "Hyenas." "Forget I said anything about waiting." Cormac knocked on the door to the bedroom he shared with Kess, then opened the door. Kess wasn't asleep, but she sat in the large bed blinking owlishly at the two of them when Finn snapped on the light. "What's happened?" Cormac went over and sat next to her. Finn perched at the foot of the bed. He launched into the events of the evening without a preamble. "Laila and I were jumped by five of Samara's pack. We killed four but one got away." Kess' eyes widened. "Where? And how many animals?"

Finn gave her an approximate guess. She leaned over and grabbed her phone. She waited a few moments after dialing a number then gave the person on the other end instructions on where to go. Finn raised his eyebrows and looked at his cousin. Cormac just shrugged. Finn rubbed the back of his head. It seemed Kess had learned a few things about her clan since her days back in Miami. "Okay, I've got someone going after the hyena carcasses. I hope we're not too late." She turned her full attention back to Finn. She seemed older now, more mature, not that she'd ever given him the impression of frivolity. Miami was changing her. Finn wondered how Cormac felt about it. "Spill. I want to hear everything. And start from the beginning." Finn nodded. "After Laila went ballistic in the meeting, I got her out of here. We headed to the beach so she could calm down and get herself together. While we were…um…hanging out, a bunch of hyenas pulled guns on us." "How did they get close enough to you to pull guns without you and Laila noticing?" Cormac eyed Finn warily, as if he wasn't sure he wanted to hear Finn's answer. Finn could feel himself reddening. Nice. Now he had to admit to macking on a crazy chick and getting ambushed by weres. Awesome. "We were, ah, a little distracted." Cormac gave him a look that could only mean, Dude, seriously? Kess rolled her eyes. "Of course you were. Why am I not surprised?" "ANYWAY, there were three women and two men. Two of the women had handguns. They wanted Laila and me to go with them. Laila didn't think that was a good idea so she distracted them so I could change and we took them out. Three of them transformed." "Wait, wait, wait. How did you get around the guns?" Cormac was watching Finn curiously. "Uh, that was actually Laila. I think it's safe to say she and Mebis are definitely Keepers. She's kind of got these amazing ninja moves. She took three down and grazed the fourth one that got away." Finn thought that she might have let that last hyena go on purpose. From what he'd seen, Finn was pretty sure she could have made that shot with ease. "I got the other one." Kess rubbed her eyes. Finn could see how exhausted she looked. He felt bad about piling more on her, but if she was going to be the head of the clan, there was no help for it. She needed to hear what he had to say. "So we can be pretty sure that the one that got away made it back to Samara." Kess seemed lost in thought for a minute before continuing. "We'll need to talk to Laila and Mebis. I don't think Samara is one to let this go. She's going to want retribution."

"Yeah, about Mebis. Laila told me something else that you need to know." Finn picked at the bedspread, unsure of what to say. Finally, he just came out with it. "He might have to kill you. It may not be a good idea to include him in anything we decide." Cormac whipped his head around to Kess, who appeared to be taking it in stride. Cormac got up to pace the room. "What did Laila say?" Finn watched his cousin tread the path around the bed a couple of times. "She didn't know much. Just that Mebis has orders to watch you. To determine if you'll be able to keep Miami." "Orders from who?" Finn looked at Kess, instead of his cousin. "Who do you think? The Keepers of Divine Order." Kess nodded. "I'm beginning to hate the sound of that name." She glanced at Cormac, who had stopped pacing. He came back over to sit beside her. Finn wondered what they'd dug up in his absence. "Yeah, well, it's something to do with that. I didn't understand a lot of what she told me—it didn't make a whole lot of sense, to be honest. But I did understand that he's watching you and if you can't do it, there's a chance he'll--how did she put it?--remove you and put someone who can do the job in your place." "That's what he told me." Finn boggled. "Wait--you already knew?" He looked at his cousin, who was also staring at Kess. Was she crazy? Had she gone around the bend like her brother? When they'd talked about this a few days ago, it was only speculation of what they might do to her. Now she had confirmation. Why would you stay here if it might get you killed? This was possibly the weirdest thing he'd heard since he'd touched down in Miami. He was finally beginning to understand why Kess wanted no part of running the clan and the territory, if this was the stuff she'd have to contend with. Cormac spoke for him. "Have you gone completely nuts?" Kess frowned at Cormac. "What do you want me to do, Cormac? I told you guys before, I can't run away from this and I'm not leaving the city to Samara and her pack. I haven't got a lot of options here!" "Why didn't you tell me?" Finn could tell his cousin was angry and frustrated at being left out of the loop.

Kess softened. "I didn't want you to worry--like you're doing right now. Mebis told me that Miami was mine to win or lose. I don't intend to lose." Cormac pulled her closer to him. Kess leaned into him, one of the few times that Finn had seen her do so since she'd come back to Miami. "You won't. We won't." The two of them looked at Finn, including him in their little group. "We won't." Finn met their gazes with a firm one of his own. "What do we do now?" Kess smiled. "Would you mind getting Mebis and Laila from the guest house--if they aren't on their way here already? We have some plans to discuss."

Chapter Thirty-Three Samara walked down the hallway of the hotel towards her daughter's room. It was late morning and she thought that now was the proper time to address her daughter's mistake. She'd already had a talk with Rafe about the debacle on the dance floor. He might think it unfair of her to push blame on him for Teresa's error, but at least he'd learned to keep his mouth shut about it. The boy knew he was lucky to still be alive. She noticed the Do Not Disturb card hanging from the handle of Teresa's door. She knocked anyway; it was high past time the girl should be up and Samara didn't wait for anyone, least of all her own offspring. When Teresa levered open the door, Samara pushed her way inside. And stopped, scenting the air. Blood. And somewhat fresh too. She looked around the room and saw piles of towels streaked red, some far worse than others. Several large first aid kits were strewn about, contents strung out everywhere. Empty gauze packets and bloody bandages decorated the spare bed and floor around it. Samara looked at her daughter critically. Teresa wasn't wounded in any way that she could see. That meant it was someone else. She checked the bathroom but found it empty, although there were blood droplets on the porcelain of the sink and dotting the floor. She turned to Teresa, narrowing her eyes. "What did you do?" Her voice was like metal in winter, capable of freezing off skin. "Something happened last night." Teresa sounded nervous. "Obviously." "We lost four and one was wounded." Teresa tried to meet her eyes, but couldn't hold her mother’s gaze long. "Who?" Samara listened as Teresa named the two men who had been part of Rafe's support team and three females who must have followed Teresa. Samara paced over to the windows, arms folded across her chest. She fought for calm for a moment. "I gave no orders for anyone to be out last night. So I will ask for the last time, Teresa. What did you do?" Samara finally turned and faced her daughter, who had her head bowed.

Teresa spoke in fits and starts, haltingly telling Samara of her plan. She had ordered that team to keep an eye on the house and if anyone left to follow them. They had instructions to intercept them if they could and bring them back to the hotel for Samara. Teresa had hoped to undo the damage caused by the brawl in the nightclub. Her people had tracked one of the young men who arrived with Kess and the female werejackal to the beach and had attempted to kidnap them at gunpoint. The only survivor of the five werehyenas had told Teresa that they weren't prepared to deal with someone like the werejackal. She had killed three of them in mere moments. The young man had turned into a wolf and killed the fourth. The survivor had not escaped unscathed though; he'd been shot. He'd come back here and Teresa had done her best to patch him up before sending him back to their territory. Samara rubbed her temples lightly as Teresa's story went on. Her daughter had no idea that she was sabotaging Samara's entire plan to gain allies when she sent out the group. But ignorance still didn't excuse her failure. Samara was pack leader and her decisions and orders were the ones to be followed, not Teresa's. She didn't hold the pack yet. She knew why her daughter had done this. Teresa wasn't particularly rational when it came to Rafe. And her pathetic little brother had made her look bad. More than trying to help the pack or her mother, Samara knew this was more about Teresa trying to save face. Rafe couldn't be allowed to best her in any appreciable way. "What did Rafe have to do with this?" Samara was curious what Teresa would say. She already knew her son hadn't been involved in this trainwreck—if he had been, Teresa would have gleefully thrown him under the bus by now. She saw a look of cunning flit across Teresa's face. Before her daughter could open her mouth with the lie, Samara cut her off. "Never mind." Teresa clicked her teeth together. Samara snarled in warning. Teresa had put everything Samara had hoped for in jeopardy; she had no right to get bitchy with her now. "What are you going to do?" Teresa asked hesitantly. Samara took a moment to think. She was no longer in a position of strength. She had numbers, certainly, but they were all two hours away. She couldn't attack outright, not now. And not until she had confirmed that her alliances were still intact. She would have to do damage control after the two fiascos, and she'd have to take credit for the attacks. As much as she would

like to leave Teresa to the wolves—quite literally now that werewolves were in the picture— Samara couldn't have it getting around that she was being countermanded or undermined. Samara knew she couldn't run and hide back in her own territory and still retain even a hint of respect from the jaguars. The jackals might well be a lost cause since the failed kidnapping attempt was on one of their own, but she still needed to try and salvage what scraps she could. And then she could deal with Teresa. She'd need to do something inventive. With the loss of some of the strongest females of the pack, she'd need Teresa, but that didn't mean her daughter would escape punishment. It just wouldn't be as debilitating as what she'd dole out to Rafe. "I'm going to have to go deal with this. Get dressed because you and your brother are coming with me." "Where are we going?" Teresa sounded suitably cowed. Even a little penitent. "To see the wereleopards." "You can't expect us to just walk in there! What's to keep them from killing us?" Samara looked at her daughter sharply and thought about giving her a set of scars to match her brother's. Teresa's humility hadn't lasted long. Samara grabbed her daughter's long red hair and put her face close. "I expect you to do as you are told, you moron. I expect you to keep quiet. And if you do not meet my expectations, I will take you outside and gut you myself. Is that clear?" She released her hold on Teresa's hair and smoothed out her skirt. Teresa looked shaken, which was good. "Kess won't kill us. She hasn't the stomach for it, nor the desire. But I am going to have to go and embarrass myself in front of her because of your mistake. I am going to have to play the fool. And I do NOT LIKE IT." Samara felt Teresa flinch as she swept past her on her way out of the room. She smiled grimly. That was much better. Teresa had gotten comfortable, but before the night was over, she'd learn her place. Before she slammed the door closed, she said, "Meet up in my room when you're ready." Samara stalked back to her suite, furious. Samara was not looking forward to the evening any longer. She paused to dial Rafe's number and informed him to dress in his best clothes before meeting in her room. She continued on to the bathroom and began to carefully apply her makeup. It was like a kind of armor for her, her own personal warpaint. She was going into battle. She had to be properly dressed.

Chapter Thirty-Four Finn stood by the pool, watching the play of sunlight against the bright blue water. He couldn't get the events of last night to stop repeating in his head. During the hyena attack, everything had blurred together, but now, when he had some distance, he was able to replay it at normal speed. The event no longer bled together and he was able to truly see what had gone on. And what had gone on was Laila. He'd gotten a glimpse of what she was capable of in the club, but it had only been a taste. Last night he'd seen Laila really fight. She'd killed people. And she seemed to have no problem with it. She'd taken four weres down in what felt like a millisecond and then went off with a whistle. It made sense, considering what she was, but he had no idea what to make of it. No idea of what to make of her. It disturbed him, more than he liked. He felt like he'd gotten to know and like a completely different person. He heard soft footfalls on the lawn. He turned and saw Laila, walking with her usual sashay, on her way to the pool. A towel was thrown over one shoulder. She moved with an easy grace. Finn took a closer look at her and realized how deceptive it was. She flowed, her movements compact, not wasting energy with showiness. He’d never realized it before. He wondered if Mebis moved the same way, and suspected he did. Finn stopped looking at her. He was having a hard time reconciling the normal girl she presented with the cold, accomplished killer she could become when necessary. Necessary--that was the problem. Laila didn't just kill when necessary, for her or other's protection. She killed on someone else's orders. She might as well be the loaded gun she held last night. She did nothing to determine what she was aiming at; it was all in someone else's hands. And then there was Sek. She had admitted to killing him. Kess needed to know that. She suspected already, but he'd need to tell her. He wasn't sure how to do it, or even if he wanted to. Kess and Laila actively loathed each other currently. Kess, as clan leader, was within her rights to ask for Laila's head in reparation. Finn knew he didn't want to see that happen--for either of them.

"Hey." Laila dropped her towel on a chair and dove into the water. She surfaced after a moment and smiled up at him. Finn didn't say anything. She gave him a cheeky grin. "Come on, did I forget to tell you I'd respect you in the morning? Because I respect the crap out of you." Ordinarily Finn would have been the one to make the cheesy joke, the one to laugh off any awkwardness. But they hadn't had a one night stand. They'd had a gun fight where people died. He didn't think he was off-base for not feeling like cracking wise. He looked away from her. Her heard her swim over to the side of the pool. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. Her face looked confused when she asked, "What is it?" "How can you do what you do?" Her brow furrowed. "What, swim?" "No." He ran a hand through his hair, feeling it stick up with sweat. "Don't you feel bad about it? Last night?" Laila looked up at him, all laughter gone from her face as what he was really asking dawned on her. It was probably the first time he'd ever seen her truly serious. Even last night she'd been charged up, excited. "No, I don't. Do you?" "Huh?" He had no idea what she was talking about. "You killed last night too. That wasn't some figment's throat you tore out." Finn was quiet, trying to process. It was different when he was in animal form fighting another animal. It was more instinctual, more visceral, and certainly without the human complications of conscience and morals. It hadn't even registered with him that he'd taken a life. As a wolf, he'd been protecting his pack members and defending himself from a rival animal. He realized that being a were was dangerous, but for an entirely different reason than the one most of his family thought. What did it say about him that he could so easily dismiss the death of someone else as long as he killed as a wolf? Laila was speaking and he forced himself to pay attention. "I've trained for this my whole life, Finn. Being a Keeper is what I've always wanted. It's a great honor and an even greater responsibility." "But they were human. You're human!" "Oh, come on, Finn. Humans are animals too! You're just fooling yourself if you believe our human half is less bloodthirsty or less capable of killing than our animal half. Look around you

and really see. People are killing each other every day and they don't have the excuse of turning into a beast when they do it. "I perform a function. Me and mine, we keep our world ordered. If it means that our hands get bloody to keep everything in balance, so be it." Finn shook his head. "I don't understand any of this." Laila splashed over to the pool steps and climbed out. "Members of your pack would kill to protect each other, right?" Finn thought about it. "Yes." "How is that any different than what I do?" "Because it just is!" Laila rolled her eyes. "Oh, that's a compelling argument right there." Finn frowned at her, trying to put his thoughts into words. He wasn't given to introspection, so this explaining his thoughts deal was new to him. He wished he could be more like Cormac in these situations, always ready with a thoughtful answer. "Because I'd be killing for family, for my pack. You're just killing for money! You're like a weapon yourself, with no thought for what you're actually doing!" Laila's mouth drew down in a hard line. "No, Finn. That's where you've got it wrong. I'm not killing for money. I'm killing for an ideal. And people--weres and humans--have been doing that for centuries." She walked over to him, dripping water. He had to resist the urge to back up. "I like you, Finn. And up until last night, I think you liked me too. I haven't changed who I am. You just saw a different side of me. And you don't get to pick and choose the parts of me that you'd like to keep, and throw away the parts that make you uncomfortable." She put her hands on her hips, a sure sign she was feeling challenged."So? This is who I am. And I like who I am. You can take it or leave it, but you can't change it." Finn watched as she grabbed her towel and walked back to the guest house. He'd never felt so confused in his life. Girls had always been the one thing he'd been good at; he didn't understand them, really, but he seemed to have a knack for them. And because they came so easy to him, he didn't really give them much thought. But Laila was something altogether different. She was right though. Until last night, he had liked her. Kissing her had been a great, better than anything he'd had experienced with a normal girl. He'd known she was more than she appeared, more than just a werejackal--there'd been the fight at the club and her dubious

association with Sek. But now that he knew just what she was, he wasn't sure he could deal with it. She was an assassin. Finn dropped down onto a lounge chair, his arm draped over his eyes. Her words came back to him. He'd killed last night too. Killed without remorse. Killed without even thinking about it really. When he was a wolf, it wasn't like his human side checked out. Human-Finn was still in there, behind the wolf, staring out through its eyes. He didn't have the excuse of being truly animal. How was what he did last night any better than what Laila did? She just happened to be better at it than he was. He got up and jumped into the pool, hoping the cool water would calm his mind. When he surfaced, he looked over towards the guest house. He stopped when he heard the patio door slide open. Kess emerged, looking like she hadn't gotten a good night's sleep in days. She sat on the lounge chair closest to him, propping her elbows on her knees and resting her chin in her hands. "Laila told me about Sek last night. Did you know?" Finn nodded. "She told me last night, after the hyenas. But we were a little busy with other things so I forgot to tell you." Kess closed her eyes, rubbing them. "Do you believe her? What she said about Sek?" Finn stared at Kess. He thought for a moment, about everything he knew about Laila and everything he thought. "Yes. One thing I know is Laila doesn't lie about stuff like that." "She lied to my face about killing him." Finn remembered the night they'd played video games. "Did you ever ask her directly?" When Kess gaped at him, he chuckled. "She's got some weird rules, but she does have them." "She's a pain in the ass." Kess dragged her hands through her hair. "No argument there." "You like her, don't you." Finn ducked his head. He wasn't sure how to answer that. He shrugged. "What do you think I should do about her?" Kess sounded amused. "Spank her?" At Kess' sour face, he shook his head. "I don't think there's anything you can do. I mean, do you really want to punish Laila for killing your brother?" Kess looked thoughtful. One thing Kess rarely did was go off without thinking. Sometimes Finn wondered if Kess thought too much. Maybe it had something to do with her being on the run, with having to plan three steps ahead.

She said in a low voice, "I don't know. After what he did to me…” she trailed off. “I don't know if I even want to punish Laila." He watched her pull her hair forward, running her hands through it. "I found his journal." "And?" "I've been afraid to read it." She sighed. "I think I'm going to have to though." "Sucks, doesn't it? This whole responsibility thing?" He smiled at her. She grinned back. "More than I can put into words."

Chapter Thirty-Five Laila sat on the sofa in the great room and eyed the assembled guests. The werejaguars seemed curious about tonight's entertainment. Finn and Cormac were hiding any anxiety they had pretty well. Kess was focused and quiet, but didn't appear to be nervous which surprised Laila. She was turning out to be better at this leader stuff than Laila had expected. Mebis was tucked into a corner, out of the way, in the best place to watch the proceedings. She decided to join him. They were all just waiting for Samara to get the show started. Samara entered the room flanked by two of her own pack. Laila took a closer look and bit back a gasp of surprise. She recognized them. It was the Samara lookalike from the club and the young kid she'd been pummeling. Odd that they were in the same pack—they'd looked like mortal enemies and not packmates just a few nights ago. They were all well dressed, but Samara had pulled out all of the stops: hair and makeup were flawless, dress professional but tight enough to catch a man's eye and hold his attention. She looked like the proverbial million bucks. Laila wondered what the werehyena had up her sleeve. It was patently stupid for her to flout Kess’ authority so directly, but Laila was beginning to think Samara wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed when it came to Miami. The werejaguars pulled back to the walls, content to watch the spectacle unfold. Laila could tell that if they didn’t like what Kess did, or if they liked Samara’s idea better, they’d throw in with the hyenas for dominance in Miami. Kess had a lot riding on the next few minutes, but Laila knew the wereleopard was already well aware of that. “Four of my pack were gunned down in your territory by an assassin,” the werehyena began, not letting Kess get out the first volley. “I want to know what you are going to do about it.” "Nothing." Kess stood up and came around the desk, forcing Samara to back up or be stepped on. It was a dominance move. Laila approved. Samara may have the advantage of height and looks, but Kess had a presence when she wanted to that preceded her, making her seem larger. And having two huge werewolves bookending her didn’t hurt either. "Really?" Samara didn't seem surprised. "Think carefully, girl, before you speak. You wouldn't want a war, now would you?"

"You act like it could ever be anything but war between us." Samara smiled and nodded, like she was acknowledging the truth in what Kess said. Laila frowned. Had this been what she wanted all along? To push Kess into fighting her openly, before she was ready? Laila saw Samara's eyes flick to the side. Laila followed the werehyena's gaze to the werejaguars and understood. All part of a performance for her allies. But what she'd told Mebis had been an exaggeration. The werejaguars had been approached, yes, but they were not inclined to disrupt their businesses in Miami by throwing in with an unknown commodity like Samara. Still the werehyena didn't stop trying. "I had hoped it could be different." “Do you really think I’m mentally ill like my brother?” Kess asked calmly, eyes striking gold sparks. “You are far from the injured party here. If you recall, I informed you that only one of your pack members could join you as your entourage and that any uninvited hyenas would be disposed of. So either you chose to ignore the warning or you’re unable to get your people to follow your instructions. Which is it?” Laila fought back a giggle. That was a good opening shot, and either way Samara answered--or didn’t answer--would make her look ridiculous. But Kess wasn’t finished. “And since you admit to those being members of your pack, how do you explain them attempting to kidnap--at gunpoint--members of other clans that are here under my protection?” Kess took another step forward, invading Samara’s space. “You overplayed your hand, Samara. You’re not getting your claws into Miami tonight or any other.” Samara raised herself up to her full height, glaring down at Kess, forcing the wereleopard to look up at her. Laila could see where that tactic could be effective if Samara had been in a position of strength. As it was, it looked like she was trying to browbeat Kess. The werehyena lowered her face to Kess’ so that they were eye to eye, a slight insult. “Don’t be too sure of that, little girl. Your numbers are dwindling and ours only grow. We’ll come in and take Miami from you, and you and yours will be nothing but rotting corpses for us to feed on.” “Charming,” Kess replied, a small smile on her face. “You’re trash, Samara. That’s one thing Sek and I both agreed on. You can dress in designer clothes and put on airs as much as you like, but everyone knows. You turned your own territory into a slag heap and now you want to try it here. Our numbers may not be what they once were, but there are still plenty of us to keep you out.”

“With what help? The jackals?” Samara let out a whooping laugh, similar to the bark of a hyena. “They can’t be trusted.” “Look who’s talking,” Laila said before she could stop herself. Finn grinned at her and rolled his eyes. Mebis stuck his elbow in her side. Why could she not keep her damn mouth shut? Samara’s icy blue gaze settled on her. Laila held still, like a butterfly pinned to a mounting board. She got the feeling she didn’t want to attract any more attention than she already had. “Very well,” Samara said, looking at Laila but speaking to Kess. “If you would still broker for peace and avoid bloodshed, I propose a deal. Give me this one in compensation for the pack members she killed and you can keep Miami for now.” Laila felt Mebis stiffen at her side, his hand automatically moving towards the back of his pants where one of his guns nestled at the small of his back. She saw Finn turn his head to Kess, as if gauging her mood. Cormac was standing off to one side of her along with Bomani, and they were the only two who looked even remotely relaxed in the room. She wondered what they knew that she didn’t. She turned her attention to Kess. The wereleopard's face was blank, giving away nothing of what she might be thinking. Laila felt a small tingle of fear begin to eel its way down her spine. Laila had killed her brother and called her out in front of her clan. Kess might think that giving her over to Samara was a suitable punishment and damn the consequences, especially if it would buy a little peace. Laila doubted Samara would stand by her word. The werehyena knew she couldn’t touch the werewolves, but the werejackals operated outside of the usual clan bonds and since Laila had murdered her host, all bets for safe passage and protection were removed. Samara knew the hospitality laws well. Laila thought about what she would do in Kess' position. In all honesty, she'd probably make the trade. If someone had killed Mebis, she would have sacrificed that person in a heartbeat, if she hadn't killed them outright already. And it wouldn't be for the good of her clan. It would be for revenge. “No,” Kess said, her voice very quiet. “As I mentioned before, she is under my protection. I will not trade her to you.” She leaned back, hands on the edge of her desk, just like Sek had done the last night he’d spoken with Laila. “But if you are serious about brokering lasting peace, then I have an offer for you.”

Laila and the entire room had turned in Kess’ direction. She sat still beneath the scrutiny, calm as the cat she sometimes was, blinking slowly. When Samara cocked her head, Kess continued. “Rite of challenge for Miami. The two of us: one battle, to the death. If you win, you and yours get Miami. If I win, I get your territory and your pack never bothers us again.” Laila would have thought she was crazy, if she hadn’t talked to Finn earlier. This slip of a girl had managed to defeat her brother in single combat. Laila had never seen her transform, but figured a leopard had to be at least as big as a wolf, and Finn in wolf form was a match for the hyenas they’d fought on the beach. And as long as the fight was fair--and it sounded like it would have to be to go through--Kess was all but assured of winning. Laila had to give it to her, the girl had something. The werejaguars were nodding in the corner, obviously continuing to support the wereleopards. Samara already looked like a fool, storming in here like she had without proper grievances, hoping to bully an inexperienced clan leader. Any foothold she had hoped to gain with the werejaguars had evaporated. And now with Kess physically challenging her, she had only two choices, neither of which were palatable: back down and lose face, or accept the challenge and most likely be killed. Laila looked at Cormac. Kess’ boyfriend was still outwardly relaxed. He and Finn had both been there when she’d taken on Sek and neither of them seemed particularly worried for her. Laila had to fight a grin. Samara was going to be royally pissed off about the predicament she had placed herself in. Kess let the silence drag on a few minutes longer. Finally she said, “Well, Samara? Do you accept?” The werehyena snarled and, for the first time, she did not look beautiful. “I do NOT. I’m not here to play games with you, girl.” “This is no game,” Kess retorted, still calm. “Accept the challenge or withdraw from my city immediately.” Samara closed the space between herself and Kess. Kess didn’t move or back up, allowing Samara to push into her space. The older woman glared down at her, anger making her eyes narrow and face red. Kess stared up at her placidly. “Don’t think this is over,” the werehyena warned. “You’ll make a mistake and I’ll be waiting.”

She swept away from Kess who looked placidly after her. She gestured for her two pack members to follow but was halted at the door by Kess’ deliberately soft voice. “Samara, you were only allowed one person in your retinue. I’m afraid I must ask you to leave one behind.” Samara spun, her beautiful face a rictus of hatred. Getting outmaneuvered by an eighteen year old must be especially galling, Laila thought, biting back a smile. She had clearly misjudged Kess, as it looked like most in the room had. Only Cormac, Finn, and Mebis seemed unsurprised at the turn events had taken. “Challenge?” Kess offered again, the ghost of a smile around her mouth. Laila wondered what it would be like to fight a wereleopard and decided she didn't want to find out just now. Laila saw Samara look at her two attendants. She seemed to be debating something with herself, then her face settled back to smoothness. Samara gestured for the female guard to come with her. The male looked after her, but held his peace. The look of shock on his face couldn’t be hidden. She stormed out with three wereleopards trailing her to make sure she got to the border. Laila saw Kess rub her temples. Then the wereleopard noticed the other werehyena still in their midst. Kess gestured for him to come inside. Laila could smell the fear on him—it was coming off him in waves--and also relief. Odd. Laila watched him as he walked, and for someone who had just been abandoned on the enemy’s doorstep, he seemed remarkably relaxed. She saw him stop when he was still well out of arm’s reach of Kess and incline his head and body in a slight bow to her. She wondered what the hell kind of place he came from if being at the mercy of his enemies was a step up. She got a better look at him now that they were somewhere with decent lighting. The young man--more of a boy really--couldn’t have been much more than sixteen. He kept his head down, staring at his feet. His hair was black and shaggy, covering part of his face. Laila moved around the room so she could get a better view. He was gorgeous, almost prettily so, the bone structure fine and aristocratic. His skin was pale, like Samara’s. The boy was tall, but then everyone towered over Laila, and he was still growing; he had the gawky appearance like he still hadn’t grown into his limbs. But he looked underfed. Too skinny. Finn would probably be able to snap him over his knee like a twig. Thinking about the werewolf, she looked for him, but he seemed to have scuttled off somewhere, maybe as backup to the wereleopards seeing Samara out of town. Mebis had

disappeared too, along with the werejaguars. Only Cormac remained, but he was on the other side of the room now. She turned her attention back to the boy. He was well dressed, the suit he wore a designer one, but it fit him poorly. It made him look like a little boy playing dress-up in his father’s clothes. It did nothing to mar his beauty--and Laila was beginning to believe that all werehyenas looked like supermodels, because this kid looked like he belonged in a print ad for a major designer’s label. “I’m Kess and it looks like you’ll be staying here for a while,” Laila heard Kess say, but she kept her eyes on the young man. He had jumped when she’d mentioned staying there. “What’s your name?” He raised his head and Laila got a good look at his face. His eyes were large with sharp black brows standing out against the pale forehead. The irises were a strange amber brown, the gold in them almost glowing in the dim light. Kess’ eyes had a similar quality, but her’s were purer in color. But what really got her attention were the three scars that cut along the right side of his jaw and neck, starting at his ear and fading away at his pointed chin. She touched her own scar at her eye. Laila’s was from a knife; this boy’s came from claws, the white ridges standing out rigid against the normal flesh. Were claws. “I’m Rafael--Rafe.” He paused, swallowing. “Aren’t you going to kill me?” Laila saw Kess’ smile and it was a real one. “Hadn’t planned on it. You haven’t given me any reason to.” She gestured to her boyfriend. Cormac shrugged. “Cormac here will show you to your room. If you need anything, just let me know. We’ll talk more in the morning, okay?” Laila had to keep herself from gaping at Kess. What was going on here? She was treating him like a foundling babe and it might really be an assassin she was cuddling to her breast. Was she insane? Rafe looked confused too, not that Laila could blame him. She wasn’t quite sure what Kess was up to either. “I don’t understand,” he said. “You’re my guest and under my protection as long as you remain here,” Kess answered. “Samara’s your pack leader, right?” “She’s my mother.” Rafe admitted this with a scowl. Laila frowned. What kind of mother just left their kid to be killed?

“I guess I run things probably quite a bit different than what you’re used to. It’s cool.” She waved for him to go with Cormac. “Relax. You’re safe here. Get some rest and, I promise, we’ll talk in the morning.” The werewolf led the young man out of the room. Kess watched them go with a frown on her face. Laila would have given a lot to know what she was thinking. Laila realized that they were alone in the room. Kess realized it too, but didn’t seem worried about it. Again, another stupid mistake by Kess. Laila stopped her automatic judgments and thought for a second. Nothing that Kess did tonight was remotely stupid. So she must have a reason for sending all of her retainers and protectors away. When Laila really thought about it, she had to concede she probably wouldn’t get the drop on Kess, not tonight. When she stopped dismissing her, she began to notice things: how Kess kept track of where everyone stood in a room, how she looked for the entrances and exits, especially the least expected escape routes, how she always left herself plenty of room to maneuver. Finn had told her that Kess had been on the run. She was used to being hunted. It had made her cautious and cagey. Laila felt a grudging respect for her. Then Kess said the one thing that made the most sense to Laila after everything that had happened. “Get. OUT.” And Laila did.

Chapter Thirty-Six Laila walked through the house, looking for Kess. It was deathly quiet—that was the one thing that consistently amazed Laila. The house was always so still, even when it was packed with people. There was something about the place that just seemed so hushed, as if even the building was holding its own secrets. She would not be particularly sad to leave it. The people on the other hand, well, that was a different matter. One of them she'd miss very much. She turned down the hallway that led to Finn's bedroom. She'd already checked the den and the offices where she thought Kess would be, now she was checking the bedrooms. She wasn't entirely sure why she wanted to say goodbye to Kess. It wasn't as if she really liked the wereleopard. But she had come to respect her, and felt that she owed her something. Maybe it was because she had been the one to kill Kess' brother. Whatever it was, Laila knew she couldn't leave without saying goodbye. Laila stopped in front of a half-opened door. She looked inside. It was the bedroom of a teenage girl if the décor was any indication: floppy pillows, mirrors, a huge bed covered in bright colors and fabrics. A set of French doors led out to a patio and the yard beyond. Kess stood at the foot of the bed, her back to the door. Laila knocked lightly and walked in as Kess turned around. "I just came to say goodbye." Kess' eyes were a little unfocused, as if she were witnessing something only she could see. The wereleopard held a leather-bound book against her chest. "Okay. Goodbye." Laila sighed and closed the door behind her. She saw Kess' eyes flick to the French doors, then slide across the room, maybe looking for something that could be used as a weapon. The werejackal suppressed a smile. Good. Kess had good instincts for keeping herself alive and she was smart to be wary of Laila. Maybe Mebis was right after all. Maybe this slip of a girl could take and hold Miami. It would be interesting to see how it turned out. But Laila wasn't here for anything other than a talk. "I wanted to say that I'm sorry for what I said that night." The words came out clipped and harsher than Laila would have liked. She wasn't good at apologies. "I hadn't gotten the whole story and I shot my mouth off."

Kess blinked. She obviously hadn't been expecting anything like an apology from her. "Um…accepted?" Laila grinned and began to wander around the room, running her fingers along bookshelves and nightstands and along the tops of dressers. Kess tracked her every move and she kept a certain distance between the two of them. Again, smart. "This your room?" "From before…yeah." Laila stopped and surveyed it, taking it all in. "Doesn't look much like your style." Kess met her eyes with a fierce look. "It isn't. Not anymore." The two stared, each taking the measure of the other. It was easy to forget that Kess was only a year older than she was. It had something to do with the way the wereleopard carried herself, maybe the way she went so still and observed everything. It made her seem older. It was something that Laila was jealous of. They didn't like each other--they weren't friends, not by a longshot. But they did have a mutual respect for the other's abilities. Laila nodded briefly and broke eye contact. "Well, goodbye." She walked back over to the door, but Kess' voice stopped her. "Did you like my brother?" Kess had a strange, unreadable expression on her face. Laila thought about it for a moment. Had she liked Sek? She felt drawn to him at first, then creeped out by him, but like him? "I think I felt sorry for him at the end." Because she had. He'd been tormented and unbalanced and he'd lost his family, no matter that it was through his own designs. He'd been alone, more so than anyone Laila had ever met in her short life. Kess nodded, almost as if she'd been expecting an answer like that. She looked thoughtful. "Thank you for your honesty." Laila put her hand on the doorknob and remembered something. "I don't know if you want to know what his last words were." Kess stared at her, the green-gold eyes unblinking. She truly looked very much like a cat in that instant. Then she nodded slightly. "He said to tell you he was sorry." Kess' mouth pulled up in a hard line, as if she didn't quite believe it. Then her face relaxed into a small smile. "Thank you for that as well." Laila nodded to her, a last farewell. Then she turned the knob and stepped back into the hallway, leaving the new clan leader alone with her memories. All she wanted to do now was go home.

Chapter Thirty-Seven Laila wandered the airport, killing time before her flight. She'd already gotten herself a snack and bought some mindless magazines for the plane trip home. She was stocked up on gum and candy. She'd checked her bags and had her seat assignment. She'd even bought her mom and dad some cheesy souvenirs. She'd bought her dad a horrible tropical print shirt that she knew he'd never wear and her mother would get a snowglobe with a carrot and top hat floating in it that read on the side Florida Snowman. All she had to do was hit the security checkpoint and head to her gate and then she'd be flying home. Mebis was catching a different flight at a later time. Laila had a suspicion he would be meeting with the Keepers' inner circle, but she found she didn't care as much as she thought she would. Mebis would tell her what was going on when he came home. And then her brother would be returning to Miami. He was staying here for the time being to monitor the situation. It was pretty obvious that the Keepers were backing Kess, although they were trying to be unobtrusive about it. Right now, they were content to let the wereleopard deal with Samara and the hyena threat, with Mebis watching for any changes. Laila would check in with him from time to time, but for now, she was going home alone. She'd tried to say goodbye to Finn before she left. He wasn't anywhere to be found in the house or on the grounds. Laila suspected he was avoiding her and, though it killed her to admit it, she couldn't really blame him. He wasn't comfortable with who she was and what she could do. He was used to his normal, non-were girls. It wouldn't have worked anyway, she told herself, even if he had been able to accept her status as a Keeper. She was in New Orleans. He would be going back to North Carolina in a few weeks. Still, it would have been nice to see him one last time. With a soft sigh, she slung her small carry-on bag over her shoulder and walked down the corridor leading to security. She was almost to the ropes that demarcated the area for searches and metal detectors when she heard someone calling her name. Finn was sprinting down the hallway, waving his arms to get her attention. Biting back a smile, she stepped out of line and walked to meet him.

He had come to say goodbye after all. "Hey," he said, breathless. "Hi. So you just happened to be in the neighborhood?" Finn nodded. "Figured I'd drop by." Laila smiled. "I'm glad you did." He looked at her, serious. "I wanted to catch you before you left. To say I'm sorry I was so stupid the other day." Laila had no idea what he was talking about. Finn was usually saying or doing something stupid--it was part of his charm. How was she supposed to pick just one instance? "You're going to have to be a little more specific there." "Look, you were right. I do like you. And it was pretty stupid of me to get tweaked about who you are and what you do. There's lots of things you don't know about me." Laila was completely lost. She had no idea what he was getting at. It was great that he liked her, but the other stuff was all over the place. "Um, Finn..." "I'm totally screwing this up, aren't I?" "Kind of." "Hell with it." He grabbed her and kissed her. She held herself stiffly in his arms for a second, then relaxed against him. He was much better at this than he was at explanations. He pulled back slightly after a minute. "Do you understand me now?" "That was remarkably clear." Now she was breathless. He tucked her under his arm and led her over to an out of the way bench. Laila looked up at him, memorizing the strong bones of his face, the tanned skin. His hair had lightened in the strong Miami sun. That ever-present smile of his was still there. She'd miss it. She'd miss him. She'd never expected to meet anyone like him. He pulled her close to him, resting his chin on the top of her head. "So what now?" Laila sighed. "I get on a plane. You go back to the wereleopards." "Can I call you?" "You'd better." She reached in his pocket and pulled out his phone so she could enter her number in there. Finn took the phone back from her, then held out his hand for hers. "I'll do you one better. I'll even give you mine." Laila placed her phone in his hand and watched as he punched in his

digits. When he handed it back, she dialed the number he'd entered and waited until his phone rang before hanging up. "I'm wounded," he said, mock hurt in his voice. "You don't trust me?" "I know about guys like you, Finn." Laila smirked at him. "Oh yeah? What about girls like you? Heartbreakers every single one." He leaned his head close to hers so that his mouth was by her cheek. "Finn, sweetie, there are no other girls like me." She lifted her mouth to his, stealing whatever he was going to say next. "You got that right," he whispered when she let him up for air. Their eyes met and they stared at each other. Laila had no idea if whatever they had was going to work, but she felt inclined to try. If she was reading Finn right, so did he. "And you've got a plane to catch." "You could come and see me, you know," she offered, not sure whether he'd be willing to travel to see her. She wasn't sure what they were, or if Finn even knew himself, but now wasn't the time to try and define it. She could be patient. Maybe. "I've never been to New Orleans," he mused. He stood up, pulling her with him. He held her hand as he walked her to the security area. "Or you could come back here. It looks like we're staying the summer." "I'm somehow doubting Kess would be thrilled to see me back." "There are ways to work around that." He seemed reluctant to let go of her hand. Laila tilted her head to look at him and wondered briefly if she should invest in some stilts. She was going to get a crick in her neck this way. "I'm still a Keeper, Finn. That's not changing." She wanted to be clear with him. As much as she liked him, she wasn't going to compromise who she was. "I know. And I'm still an ass. That's probably not changing either." He smiled down at her. "I'm glad I came." "I'm glad you came too." She was. Beyond what she'd thought possible. She looked over at the line of people queuing up at the security stands. "They're going to be calling for my flight any minute." Finn released her. She appreciated the limited amount of PDA he attempted. While she might like touch, crave it even, she didn't enjoy public displays. Finn seemed to be of the same mind about it. But this was goodbye, if only for a while. She could indulge. She leaned up and kissed him thoroughly before stepping away.

"Call me when you land." "I will." Finn pulled her back. "And try to stay out of trouble." "No promises," she whispered. "But I'll do my best." He kissed her briefly, then let her go. "Get out of here, you." "Bye, Finn." She got in line, giving him a last wave. As she made her way through security, she would look back to see Finn standing there, grinning at her. When she finally passed through every checkpoint and could go to the gate, she slowed before rounding the corner that would take her out of sight. The last thing she saw was Finn standing to the side, smiling at her. She smiled back, then continued to the gate to board the plane that would take her home.

Chapter Thirty-Eight Finn returned to the house after seeing Laila at the airport to find it mostly empty. The werejaguars had made their own preparations to leave after their meetings with Kess. They seemed happy to continue doing business with the wereleopards so long as Kess was at the helm. Bomani and the other wereleopards had vacated to give Kess some privacy. With Mebis and Laila gone, it was just Finn, Kess, and Cormac in the big house, with the odd bodyguard or two. He parked the car in the garage and went to find his cousin. He hoped this meant they would actually get to enjoy Miami now that the immediate threat was over. He walked through the house, stopping at the dining room. A large blue urn sat on the burnished wood table. Sek's ashes must have come while he'd been out. He wondered what Kess planned to do with them. Finn heard laughter from the pool area outside, and he grabbed a bottle of water before he poked his head outside. It was sweltering, the afternoon sun beating down without relief. Clouds were rolling in though, so he knew that one of the usual afternoon thunderstorms was coming. It wouldn't help cool anything off though; once the deluge stopped, it would be just as hot and sticky as before, sometimes worse. He was getting used to how different this place was from the mountains of his home. Kess and Cormac were in the pool. Kess moved like an eel through the water, all lean grace and supple limbs. She would dive and grab at Cormac, trying to yank him under. His cousin looked to have been dunked several times. Kess surfaced near the deep end, far enough away from Mac where he couldn’t grab her. She flipped her wet hair out of her face, then Finn saw her wave at him. "Hey, come on in!" Finn shucked off shirt and shoes and dove in. When he came up for air, Kess and Mac were waiting for him, leaning with their backs against the pool's sides. "Did Laila get off okay?" Mac squinted, eyes narrow against the glare off the water. Finn moved so he wasn't backlit by the sun. "Yeah. She's headed back to New Orleans." "You get everything worked out?"

Finn nodded. "We're good." He'd asked for Mac's advice for what to do about Laila and had bent his cousin's ear about his girl trouble. He'd never had to do that before. Mac's advice had been pretty straightforward. He'd shrugged and said, 'If she's who you want, then she's who you want. Go tell her.' Kess was smirking at him. Finn didn't think he'd ever seen her actually smirk before. "What is so funny?" "Lindsay is going to have a field day with this when she finds out." Her smirk turned into a full on grin. Finn had a good idea of exactly what his brother's girlfriend would have to say about Laila. He expected the teasing to be swift, merciless, and persistent. "Oh yeah? Who's going to tell her?" He proceeded to try and drown Kess good-naturedly. The water fight that erupted was epic in scope. Kess was the hardest to get because she was a natural in the water. She evaded them handily. Finn thought that she had an unfair advantage growing up ocean and poolside. And that the old adage about cats hating water was a bunch of crap. He and Mac wound up trying to make the other swallow half the pool while Kess helped out the poor schlub who was getting the worst of it as the mood suited her. When they were waterlogged and exhausted, they dragged themselves out of the pool to dry off on the lounge chairs. Finn watched Kess and his cousin flop on the chairs, huge smiles on their faces, and realized this was the first time he'd seen either of them relax since they'd arrived in Miami. He didn't know if he'd looked as tense as they had, but it was over now. They'd all done well, Kess most especially. They could enjoy themselves for a little while. "So what are we going to do now?" Kess and Mac turned their heads to him, quizzical looks on their faces. "We've got the whole summer, right?" Somewhere along the way, Finn wasn't sure when exactly, Kess had decided that she would really take over as leader of the clan. It may not have been a conscious decision, but it was one she apparently planned to stick by. She had a lot of preparations to make before she could start school up north in the fall. And there was still Samara on the loose. "You guys can relax and have fun. I've got to get everything in order before I can go back. And that includes Rafe. I need to figure out what to do about him." "I'd completely forgotten about him." Finn looked around. "Where is he anyway?"

"In his room," Mac rumbled, his voice sleepy. He yawned and stretched. "He hasn't poked his nose out much." "Would you?" Kess gave Mac a pointed look. Finn wondered what was going on there. He knew Mac wasn't big on the idea of having a hyena living with them, and Finn couldn't blame him, but it looked like Kess may not feel the same way. Finn felt bad for the kid, sure--having your mother dump you with strangers who would probably kill you as soon as look at you was a crappy thing to have happen to you--but he also wasn't real comfortable sharing house space with Rafe either. "Oh, I've let all of the household staff go. I've got to hire completely new people." Kess put on a pair of sunglasses. "Unless either of you want to cut the grass?" "Have Rafe do it," Mac offered. "Make him earn his keep." Kess smacked him lightly on the arm for his sarcasm. Finn didn't understand why she needed new people. "Why did you do that?" "Samara's information was coming from somewhere. Sek's journal suspected it was someone from inside. Unless it's a leopard--which I highly doubt--it was probably a staff member. Now that Rafe's here, I didn't want to take the chance of anything else leaking out from other sources." Mac sat up. "So you do think Rafe might be a spy!" He sounded vindicated, and Finn thought they must have been arguing about Rafe's presence here when he wasn't around. "Could you say that a little louder? I don't think the people on the west coast heard you." She rolled her eyes. "Yes, the thought has crossed my mind. My brains haven't leaked out my ears. But I'm going to give him the benefit of the doubt, okay?" Mac subsided back to his chair, seemingly mollified. Finn shook his head. As if he'd known they were talking about him--or he was listening, Finn thought suspiciously--the door opened and Rafe stuck his head out. In the light of day he looked terrible. Bruises decorated his face, skin way too pale, shadowed eyes. His broken fingers were taped up. He stayed in the doorway, almost as if he liked the protection of the house. "Is it okay if I get something to eat?" Kess got up and wrapped a towel around herself. "Sure. Let me show you where everything is."

Finn and Mac watched her. She gave them a mock glare that Rafe couldn't see before she went inside, like she was warning them to behave themselves. When they were out of earshot and the patio door was closed, Finn asked, "You trust him?" "Hell no." "Good. Me neither." "You up for keeping an eye on him?" Finn grinned at his cousin. "He's as pretty as Laila, but I don't swing that way." "Just do your job." But Mac grinned when he said it. "Alpha." Finn liked throwing that as an insult when Mac got bossy like his dad. "Guess you're my Beta then." Finn got ready to say something flip, but saw Mac looking at him seriously. Mac was telling him, in his own way, that Finn had done well. It felt good. "Guess I am.” ###

And now for a sneak peek at Hyena Moon, the next book in the Moon series: HYENA MOON

Chapter One The big white house was quiet. It exuded silence like a tomb, or maybe a dentist's office. It was late morning and Rafe stood looking out the window of the room where he slept. He couldn't call it his bedroom; that didn't feel right. He certainly wasn't a guest here--a hostage, maybe, a prisoner, perhaps, an inconvenience, definitely. But then, he didn't expect much from Kess, the wereleopard clan leader who was saddled with him unexpectedly. No one had expected his mother to just dump her youngest and walk away with the idea that they'd kill him and save her the trouble. The view he had wasn't much, just the backyard and a sliver of the guest cottage, but it was better than anything he had at home. At the thought of home he frowned, the scars on the right side of his face still pulling tightly even though it had been three years since he'd received them. He'd been thirteen when his mother, Samara, had ripped his face open for speaking when she'd expected silence from him. He thought of his mother, even though he didn't want to, even though it tied him in knots. He thought of nothing else really. It wasn't like he had anything else to fill his time with, so he went over and over in his head the reasons why his mother might have left him here. He knew before he'd come to Miami with his mother that this was his last chance with her; his last chance to prove that he could do something for his pack of werehyenas other than suck up its resources. She hadn't said as much outright, but Rafe knew that his mom was looking for an excuse to get rid of him. It had bothered him when he'd first left for Miami, because only someone deeply disturbed wouldn't care that their mother was maybe trying to kill them off, but he'd made his peace with it. Or so he'd thought. But now he was driving himself crazy with it. He'd done a good job down here for her: he'd been the one who'd scoped out the presence of the Eaters, the werejackal assassins helping Kess, he'd been the one to keep his head and help his mother salvage

something out of the failed assassination attempt on Kess in the nightclub. His sister, Teresa, had been the one who screwed up, who went against orders, who threw a monkey wrench into the gears of their mother's well-oiled plans. Yet here he was and Teresa was safe at home. None of this was fair. He could always leave. There was nothing keeping him here, and while Kess hadn't killed him yet, he couldn't be sure when she might change her mind. Still, weres on their own didn't last long usually. It was dangerous going it alone in strange territories, with no one to back you up or to lean on for protection. There was safety in numbers; lone weres weren't typically accepted or trusted. There was the problem of his packmates too. With his mother abandoning him, they could attempt to improve their standing in the pack by killing him themselves. If they thought Samara wanted him out of the way, then they would think there was something to gain by bringing his horribly mangled body back to her to prove their loyalty. Yeah, not something he wanted to dwell on. Rafe paced the confines of his room, trying to wrap his head around all of it. He was pretty sure he'd proven he had worth to the pack. Hadn't he? His mind shied away from the idea of his mother really not caring about him, that she'd truly abandoned him. That she'd actually left him behind to die. He wouldn't accept that—he couldn't. She might not be in the running to win mother of the year, but she wasn't a monster. There had to be something else going on, something more, something he was missing. While his feet tracked off the same route from bed to window to door to closet and back to bed, his mind tried to find new patterns. His mother still needed to know what was happening in Miami. That much hadn't changed. Rafe was now perfectly placed to give Samara the information that she'd need to plan her takeover. He stopped, letting his mind run through the possibilities. Maybe that's what she'd been going for all along. Perhaps she'd been counting on Kess being soft-hearted enough to take in a stray. It didn't explain why he wasn't told about Samara's plan, but then again, his mother wasn't terribly forthcoming with her business. And for a con like this to work--if con it was--he had to be believable in his confusion and fear. He had at least proven that he was better at following orders and being observant than Teresa, there was that. It made sense that he'd be a better spy—Teresa didn't exactly scream

vulnerability—even if he didn't know what his mother was doing. A small voice inside him reminded him that if he failed, Samara still came out ahead because she hadn't wasted an important resource. He told that voice to shut up. If his mother was playing things out this way, it would explain her leaving him here. It meant she had a plan for him too. There were times he was sure he hated his mother. He'd felt it when she'd first given him the Miami assignment, and he knew she knew it. He felt it every time she'd beaten him, and after she'd clawed his face. And that was when she wasn't actively ignoring him. But there'd be times, few though they were, that he would catch a glimpse of the mother he wanted. She'd smile at him at a party, she'd talk to him about his day when there was a man to impress. It didn't matter that it never lasted very long; Rafe thought that if he just tried harder, she would look at him like that all of the time. Like she looked at Teresa. Rafe resumed his restless pacing, needing to do something with all of his stifled energy. There were the werewolves to think about though. If he wanted to risk spying on Kess, he'd need to take them into account. They already didn't trust him. When he'd ventured out of his room for food, they'd looked at him like he was something they'd find behind a sewer grate. The two of them seemed perfectly fine with the crazy assassin werejackals in the house but they had a problem with him--he might have found it funny if he didn't have to live with them. He knew enough after looking at them that it would be best if he stayed out of their way for the time being. It came down to what he wanted to do, probably for the first time in his life. Did he really think he'd been put here to spy on his mother's enemies? Rafe paused and stared out the window at the grounds beyond. And, if he had been, did he want to? Acknowledgements Again, a huge thank you to my beta readers and crit partners: Melissa Marr, Tracey Peake, and Nancy Potanovic. I appreciate your honesty, humor, and support more than words can ever express. An enormous thank you to KerryO for a terrific trading card done on a very tight schedule (and with little help from me). To Von, who was my template for Mebis--thanks, buddy.

And, as always, thank you to my family and friends for believing in me when I sometimes don’t believe in myself.

About the Author Jeanette Battista graduated with an English degree with a concentration in medieval literature which explains her possibly unhealthy fixation on edged weapons and cathedral architecture. She spent a summer in England and Scotland studying the historical King Arthur, which did nothing to curb her obsession. To satisfy her adrenaline cravings--since sword fighting is not widely accepted in these modern times--she rode a motorcycle at ridiculously high speeds, got some tattoos, and took kickboxing and boxing classes. She gave up the bike when her daughter came along, although she still gets pummeled at the gym on a regular basis. When she’s not writing or working, Jeanette spends time with family, hikes, reads, makes decadent brownies, buys killer boots, and plays Pocket Frogs. She wishes there were more hours in the day so she could actually do more of these things. She lives with her daughter and their ancient, ill-tempered cat in North Carolina. You can read more about her and her books at http://www.jeanettebattista.com. Follow her on Twitter at http://www.twitter.com/Battista_j