“I need your help,” I admitted. “Your help, and the help of your most trustworthy men.”

  “These are your most trustworthy men?”

  “This is where you think your sister is being held?”

  We were talking at cross-purposes...and, honestly, I could see Gunner’s point. The local Walmart didn’t top most werewolves’ lists for hostage-negotiation venues. Of course, Jackal wasn’t most werewolves either.

  Still...Tank, Crow, and Allen were Gunner’s chosen backup? I’d thought the Atwood pack’s second-in-command was able to call upon more skilled manpower than the three oddballs he’d sent to my apartment to wake me earlier in the day. If I’d known we were going in with jokers as backup, I would have skipped negotiating with werewolves and instead hired a pair of human fighters off the street.

  Because all I really needed for this job was two dependable allies. Too bad I wasn’t so sure any of my companions were up to the task.

  “I trust Tank, Crow, and Allen with my life,” Gunner said levelly as he and his trio of pack mates followed me through Walmart’s automatic doors, past the pharmacy section, and out into the open air of the screened-in garden center. “I don’t think you heard Allen’s full report, though. He lost Kira at the cemetery....”

  Willingly, the spectacled werewolf began repeating the same story I’d gathered from bits and pieces tossed out during the rush to reach our current location. Since I’d already guessed the details before I heard them, though, I tuned out the male’s repetition and began navigating by scent alone.

  Not many people visited the garden center in early March, so I wasn’t surprised to be able to pick out Jackal’s trail as easily as ever. Actually, there were half a dozen pathways leading to the same location, the amount of time the male spent browsing likely dependent upon how many humans were around when he initially arrived.

  And, sure enough, the freshest trail had been made mere hours earlier. No sign of Kira, but it was hard to get a handle on what exactly had happened with dozens of bags of mulch and fertilizer exuding their own overwhelming scents. I forced myself not to dream up reasons my sister’s aroma might be absent, but the baking-soda-influenced paw print at the crime scene rose unerringly into my mind without my consent. If anyone had small feet, that someone would be a pack-leader-wannabe like Jackal....

  “Mai, you’re not even listening.” Gunner was in front of me now, a wall of alpha preventing me from prying up the loose flagstone that covered the tunnel to Jackal’s lair. I’d found this spot years earlier when the male first came courting, his honeyed words prompting me to tail my supposed paramour and figure out what made him tick. What I’d discovered was an underground chamber accessed via Walmart’s garden center, the place he went to be alone. Since Jackal apparently thought he was the only one aware of the den’s existence, this seemed like the perfect spot to stash a girl he wanted no one else to discover.

  Unfortunately, there was currently an alpha werewolf standing between me and my intended destination. Meanwhile, hair-raising electricity proved that Gunner’s patience was wearing thin. “Mai,” he growled so intently that I gave in and wasted thirty precious seconds getting the doubter off my back.

  “Kira wanted to go to the cemetery,” I recited, repeating Allen’s words back to them in a much condensed form. “To the pond in the middle with the huge weeping willow and the spring-fed waterfall covered in moss. That’s where she always wants to go. That’s where we spread our father’s ashes.”

  “I’m sorry.” The tremendous werewolf before me deflated visibly...which just made me madder since his pity was wasting yet more time during which my sister was stuck beneath our feet terrified and hopefully alone.

  “Allen let her play hide and seek,” I continued, managing the barest hint of a smile for the accountant-turned-babysitter who was clearly berating himself for losing track of his charge. Now that I took in my entire audience, I realized Gunner was forcing this issue for more than my sake. Allen needed to be let off the hook if he was going to be any use during the battle ahead.

  “It was clever, Allen,” I continued. “Don’t let your boss tell you otherwise. Making Kira finish one math problem every quarter hour was a good way to keep her on track and ensure she was still hanging around while giving her a bit of breathing space at the same time. Kira doesn’t like being forced to sit still and she loves disappearing into that tree.”

  Despite my words, the male in question still hung his head. “I should have kept a closer eye on her....”

  “You did nothing wrong,” I said honestly. “Someone snatched my sister. And now we’re going to get her back.”

  I turned around then to face that all-important flagstone, ready to push Gunner out of the way if necessary. But it turned out my words had achieved their original goal as well as softening Allen’s penchant toward self-chastisement. Because the argumentative alpha was no longer standing atop the hidden entrance, and he even knelt down to help me slide the covering aside without being asked.

  The hole we revealed was barely large enough to crawl through, dirt-lined and dark as far as the eye could see. Predictably, my fox nature perked up at the close, dank confines. The wolves behind me, on the other hand, sucked in one united, claustrophobic breath.

  “This is why you didn’t want more backup,” Gunner murmured. Like me, he was now understanding that whoever waited on the other end of the tunnel could pick off invaders at his leisure. There was no point in bringing an army to a battle that, by necessity, had to be fought one on one. I needed a single dependable wolf at my back and a few more guarding the exit. After that, the battle would turn on skill level alone....

  “Correct,” I answered. Then, drawing my sword, I dove into the tunnel before Gunner was able to start an argument about who’d go through first.

  Chapter 23

  The tunnel was worn smooth by repeated passage, but dirt still scraped off the ceiling from time to time and filtered through my hair. I ignored the itch, however, trying instead to figure out why I couldn’t smell my sister’s distinctive odor no matter how hard I sniffed.

  Would Jackal have pushed his prisoner or pulled her? The male was lazy, I reasoned, so he’d likely kept Kira conscious so she could crawl into the darkness under her own volition. Still, my ferocious sister would have fought rather than giving in easily. She would have clawed, maybe even shifted form and bit at her captor’s hand. So why hadn’t her efforts left behind traces of her existence? Why didn’t I smell even the faintest hint of blood?

  Behind us, the scrape of stone on pavement coincided with the extinguishing of the last faint glimmer of light shining over my shoulder. And, in response, my star ball pulsed against my fingers, begging to be let out of its weaponized form so it could illuminate the pathway ahead.

  “Mai?” Werewolf fingers closed around my ankle and a shiver ran up my spine. But the reaction wasn’t terror. Instead, Gunner’s warmth gave me the courage to continue crawling forward into the darkness, holding my star ball’s illuminatory impulses in check. After all, we couldn’t risk alerting Jackal to our impending entrance with a blaze of magical starlight. Our only real chance was to burst out of the hole so quickly our opponent lacked all opportunity to block the gap....

  “If you do not enter the tiger’s cave, you will not catch its cub,” Mama murmured. And this time my skull thunked into the top of the tunnel in reaction to the ghost’s sudden arrival inside my mind.

  “Now isn’t a good time for proverbs,” I retorted...then cringed as I smelled Gunner’s interest behind my back. There would be questions later, I gathered. For now, all I could manage was to push onward while ignoring both my mother’s talkative ghost and the fact that I was willingly leading one very powerful alpha werewolf toward a sister who might currently inhabit the skin of a fox.

  It felt like we crawled for hours after that. The space heated and dampened around us, and my pupils dilated so dramatically they began to strain against the absence of light. Then I pushed my sword forward just as I’d done a second earlier and a second before that...and the weapon slipped away from me, crashing against a hard surface within a much larger room.

  Was Kira sitting with that darkness scared out of her mind by the clatter? Or was Jackal lying in wait beside his captive, crouched and smiling as he used the lack of illumination to give him the upper hand?

  My sword, unfortunately, had taken the element of surprise out of our court already. So I didn’t assess the danger further. Just pushed myself out of the hole with all my might, rolling sideways as I snatched at where I guessed the blade had fallen.

  And it was a good thing my star ball refused to cut me or I would have ended up with a gash through my right palm to match the scab on my left. As it was, I banged my shin hard against a chair leg as I came to standing then spun in a circle as light emerged from behind my back.

  “It’s me,” Gunner grunted as my blade cut through the air half a centimeter from his cell-phone-turned-flashlight. Not bothering to defend himself further, he lifted the device above his head and looked around.

  Together, we took in a lair well furnished with stolen Walmart chic. Just like last time, the space was clean and almost cozy...if you ignored the cave crickets and spiders crawling across the uneven floor. There were rugs atop the dirt, a folded chair plus a mound of pillows in one corner, even an electric camp stove off to one side.

  Unfortunately, the space was also entirely empty of anyone except me and Gunner. Neither my sister nor Jackal was there.

  GUNNER RAISED ONE EYEBROW as he took in my shock and devastation. I’d been so sure Kira would be here to greet me. Had been so sure that saving her skin was worth risking our secret around this far too astute werewolf...who was even now opening his mouth to begin a debrief I couldn’t afford.

  But before my companion could spit out a single word, a werewolf leapt out of the tunnel behind us, shifting midair so he landed naked but human by his alpha’s side. “Jackal’s been sighted on the other side of the city,” Crow reported, holding out a cell phone he’d carried through the tunnel in his lupine mouth. The device was wet with spittle, but I grabbed it before Gunner could close his fingers around the damp plastic. Then I peered down at the picture on the screen.

  Jackal in his home turf. Two shifters I didn’t recognize behind his left shoulder. No sign of my sister in sight.

  “If we go into the Warren after him, he’ll slip through our fingers,” I observed, already considering the hundreds of exit points surrounding the city’s underbelly. “He could have stashed Kira anywhere. We’ll have to tempt him out by offering something in exchange.”

  But what? Myself as mate was the only obvious bargaining chip, but Jackal had clearly tired of sniffing after me. What he wanted was territorial rights to the city...something an alpha werewolf like Gunner would never provide.

  As if reading my mind, Gunner smiled faintly. “I can think of several somethings Jackal would like to have. None of which he’s getting. But it won’t hurt to pretend.”

  The alpha nodded his chin toward the tunnel then, and Crow shivered down into lupine form before leaping back into the small space he’d come in through. Only after we were once more alone in the otherwise empty lair did Gunner take a step toward me, bending over slightly so he could peer more intently into my eyes.

  “I need to understand the bigger picture if I’m going to help your sister,” my companion rumbled, his voice so deep it vibrated against my bones. His proximity felt like sticking my finger into an electric socket while teetering above a bathtub—a burst of shock and awareness wrapped up in the knowledge that even greater danger lay mere inches away.

  In response, I tried—and failed—to pry my lips open, expecting every minute for the male to push harder against my obvious reservations. After all, he was an alpha werewolf, used to taking whatever he wanted. And even though my fox nature made verbal compulsions roll off my back like so much rainwater, my milk-money debt worked in the opposite direction, urging me to give this particular werewolf anything he cared to request.

  The wave-like crash was almost audible as the inconsistencies in my various stories collided together in Jackal’s abandoned den. Lies, lies, and more lies leading to questions beyond my ability to brush off. Like—how did my half-Japanese heritage relate to the murderer on the loose in our city? And why did my sister and I choose to live on our own when female werewolves would have been welcomed with open arms by any pack...

  ...assuming, that is, I was actually a werewolf and that my sister was the same.

  Rather than voicing the obvious, though, Gunner merely stood over me and waited. His scent embraced my body, clearing my sinuses and at the same time tightening my chest until I could barely breathe.

  And as if in response to that two-sided reaction, my star ball disobeyed my earlier commandment and began glowing gently. It was only the faintest flicker of illumination, and Gunner now held two cell phones to beat back the darkness. Still, I knew he noticed when the scent in the den turned from salty dominance into spicy intrigue.

  “Mai?” the male murmured at last. “Is there something going on with your sword?”

  I couldn’t answer, but I also couldn’t lie while my debt held me within its power. So I broke the moment in the only way I was capable of. I ignored the way his gaze raised hairs up and down my spine, stashed my disobedient weapon away beneath my clothing, then padded toward the tunnel in three quick strides. After that, I crawled into the hole so quickly I bruised both elbows and knees against the hard earthen ground.

  Gunner slipped in right behind me, his broad shoulders catching on the walls and slowing him down in areas where I could slither straight on through. Still, I didn’t take advantage of the opportunity to flee when I emerged amid a ring of interested faces.

  After all, while Gunner might suspect everything, he knew nothing. And until Kira was safe, the watchful werewolf was still the best ally I currently had on hand.

  Chapter 24

  “The talented hawk hides its claws,” my mother noted as Gunner’s SUV pulled to a halt in front of my apartment complex. And despite my best attempt at maintaining a poker face, I was pretty sure I jolted visibly at the internal commentary yet again. So it was a good thing any astute alpha questions were cut off by an interjection from the back seat.

  “One hour,” Tank informed us, looking up from his phone for the first time since we’d entered the vehicle. “Jackal says he’ll meet us at the southside McDonald’s at 11 pm. He wants Mai there.”

  I nodded, already pushing open the SUV door in relief. I’d be too frazzled to think straight if I spent the next sixty minutes in these wolves’ presence...especially with the ghost of a mother hovering at the back of my mind. So a little time to stuff Mama back in the corner where she belonged—and to finally pull on a pair of panties to stop the chaffing—seemed like a gift from the gods.

  Unfortunately, a hand reached out to close around my left wrist before I could make good on my escape. “You’re not going to run,” Gunner informed me, the words a question disguised as an order.

  “I just need time to shower and catch my breath,” I replied honestly. Well, that, plus the leeway to pull my brain back together. Mental hygiene, physical hygiene—it amounted to pretty much the same thing. “I’ll meet you there.”

  “We’ll pick you up,” Gunner countered, but he did release my wrist. And even though I could feel the alpha’s eyes boring into my back as I strode to the apartment building’s entrance, the vehicle was gone when I peered back through the fogged glass from inside.

  Only then did I lean my forehead against the tiny square of window, close my eyes, and speak to the ghost who seemed intent upon hounding my every move. “Any ideas, Mama? On how to get Kira back?”

  “A frog in a well does not know...” my mother began, only to lapse into silence rather than finishing the phrase.

  “Doesn’t know what, Mama?”

  I was talking to myself in an empty stairwell, I realized as I spun in a circle hoping for more words of wisdom from someone who had died soon after Kira was born. Despite that self-awareness, however, I waited longer than I cared to consider, hoping the ghost would return and at least finish her sentence if nothing else.

  But, at last, I was forced to admit my solitude. So I walked up the stairs alone, padded down the hallway with my hand on my star-ball-turned-sword...then froze as I took in a small rectangle of paper tacked to the outside of my apartment door.

  FOR HALF A SECOND, I thought Kira had come back and left me a note so I wouldn’t worry. That she’d just been teasing Allen, had forgotten tonight was fight night, had let her mercurial fox nature get the better of her considerate human mind.

  Then I stepped closer, took in scrawled handwriting nothing like my sister’s looping script. Knew Kira was well and truly taken and wasn’t going to be returned easily or willingly to her home.

  Because I couldn’t smell my sister here any more than I had done in Jackal’s underground hideout. Couldn’t smell anything, actually, except the metallic bite of baking soda that matched the trail of human-shaped footprints following the path I’d just taken from stairwell to door.

  Then, behind me, the trickle of a melody. Not a whistle this time, but the actual tinkle of Mama’s music box emerging from the stairs I’d just walked up.

  The killer was here, in my apartment building. And not bothering to think through the fact that, even in my frazzled state, I wouldn’t have overlooked someone standing in the stairwell, I sprinted back in the direction from which I’d come. Thundered down the stairs so loudly residents pounded on their walls and swore at being woken. Pushed through the heavy fire door at the front entrance...and peered out into a seemingly empty street.

  There was no one there. No one to match the trail of baking-soda footprints that disappeared as soon as it hit uneven pavement. No scent of shifter, no sound of music box, no magic tugging at my star ball and leading me toward the sister who should have been safely snuggled in her bed upstairs.