So, shoulders slumping, I looked in both directions one last time then climbed back up the stairs far more quietly than I’d rushed down them. And as I did so, I paid attention this time to the footprints, measuring their length in my mind’s eye. The tracks were larger than my own feet but not so large they were definitively male...nor so small they were definitively female. The tread screamed athletic shoes but the stride was shorter than my own, suggesting whoever wore those sneakers didn’t often use their gear to work out.

  Which meant my visitor could have been about 80% of the people in the city. Good luck using that evidence to make an arrest.

  Refusing to be disheartened by the lack of information, I made a beeline for my apartment as soon as I stepped out onto the third floor once again. The note was still there, the words gradually materializing as I puzzled out the pointy handwriting that had initially resembled nothing more than bird tracks in the snow.

  And as I read, I gradually sank forward until my forehead rested on the scuffed surface of the door frame. Because the message was worse than expected, nothing like the overt threat Jackal would have offered. Instead, the words were polite, cultured...and marked the death knell of the secrecy that had protected me and my sister for the last twenty-five years.

  “The artifacts aren’t working as advertised,” the note-writer informed me. “The young fox is not an adequate guide. Come to the South Street bridge at midnight to renegotiate. Don’t make this poor child suffer by bringing werewolves along.”

  Chapter 25

  I unlocked my door like an automaton, leaving it hanging open behind me as I headed into the kitchen in a daze. It’s happening. The exposure I’d guarded against for decades hovered over my head like a storm cloud.

  Good thing I’d gathered everything necessary to guard against the impending rain.

  So I didn’t enter Kira’s bedroom to rail against her absence or take a much-needed shower. Instead, I climbed atop a wobbly kitchen chair and rooted around in the back of the cupboard for several long minutes, seeking the coffee neither Kira nor I drank.

  Ah, there it was. Pre-ground crystals, still aromatic within their unsealed container. Pouring out the entire mess into the sink, I snatched up the ziplock bag of fake IDs that was revealed as the coffee grounds flowed out.

  “Am I interrupting something?”

  Good thing I was a fox or I would have fallen flat on my face when the lanky social worker waltzed through my door without bothering to knock first. As it was, the ziplock bag slid from suddenly nerveless fingers and I had to use a tendril of my star ball to nab the slippery plastic before it fluttered toward the floor.

  Still, my voice was serene as I denied the truth to Simon’s face. “Of course not. Just making coffee. Want some?”

  As I spoke, I jumped down off the chair just a little too lightly to appear human...then made up for that lapse by scraping the wooden legs loudly across the floor while tucking the article of furniture back into its usual spot. I could almost hear Mr. Grouchy downstairs growling into his comforter, wanting to know why I couldn’t keep banker’s hours like everyone else...which might have explained why Simon was here. Had an ornery neighbor called Social Services just because I’d been too loud after dark?

  I wasn’t given time to pursue that supposition, though, because Simon responded with an easy “Sure,” catching me off guard as he called my hospitality bluff for the very first time. What, now he wanted coffee? After years of politely evading my offers of tea and cookies? Of lifting his hands off the table when he accidentally brushed the surface, as if my bad housekeeping would rub off at a touch?

  Unfortunately, while the sink was full of coffee crystals, the apartment possessed no brewing apparatus. And I wasn’t even sure we still had a mug after Kira’s most recent juggling attempt.

  So I utilized one of my favorite game plans—when in doubt, go on the offensive. “What are you really here for?” I demanded, realizing as I spoke that there was no need to toady up to this social worker any longer regardless of his current reason for invading my home. Because, sure, for the last decade Simon had held the key to my happiness in his clammy fists. But Kira and I would shortly be starting over in a new community...and this time her ID would say she was over eighteen.

  “To see your sister,” the social worker replied, then proceeded to drawl out more explanation than he really needed. “I realized Kira wasn’t here last time I spoke with you. Doesn’t look like she’s here now. Where is your ward?”

  As he spoke, the male’s eyes trailed across the combined kitchen and living room. And as Simon searched for a girl who was very obviously not present, my brain caught up with the adrenaline that had been coursing through my veins ever since the social worker barged in.

  Wasn’t his current behavior a little beyond the pale, even if the neighbors had called to report me? Since when did city workers make house calls late on a Friday evening? And why was he suddenly so intent upon seeing Kira?

  My gut told me to get out of there, the sooner the better. And I trusted my gut. So I pasted on a smile and lied between my teeth.

  “At a sleepover with a friend,” I answered, mentally shuffling through the contents of the apartment as I spoke. Was there anything else Kira and I couldn’t live without? Not really. My sister had sold Mama’s last possessions, I kept all of our cash in my pockets, and our mother’s star ball had recently been hanging out on my sister’s person. Everything else was just so much jetsam ready to be thrown overboard as we abandoned ship.

  “I’ll go see her there then,” Simon answered, breaking into my musings and accepting the deflection more easily than I’d expected. “What’s the address?”

  I was tempted to rattle off a fake street number then push the human out the door. But instinct told me he wasn’t going to leave so easily. Might call in a coworker to check out my story while he kept me talking, wasting time I could use to get my sister back.

  So I parried rather than feinting. “Give me a minute. I’ll hunt it down for you,” I offered before slipping into the bedroom and closing the door in his face.

  Then, just as I’d done two nights earlier, I gave into my fox’s urge to flee the premises. It was ten times easier to do so in Kira’s bedroom than it had been in that gas-station restroom, the window here a little larger and the fire escape on the outside providing an easy pathway to the ground.

  “Hey! Wait!” Simon’s face appeared at the window sooner than anticipated. But I didn’t pause or answer, knowing his long arms and legs would take far too long to slip through the small gap after me. Instead, I just ran down the metal steps with heavy footfalls that once again wakened the neighbors. Then, knowing I was irredeemably cutting off all possibility of retreat, I slunk into the shadows and disappeared into the night.

  Chapter 26

  Unfortunately, I’d traversed only half a block when the scent of werewolf rose up around me. “Going somewhere?” Gunner demanded as he stepped out of an alcove to block my path.

  I flinched backwards, wishing I could pretend I was still the same person I’d been one hour earlier. Then, I’d been glad for this male to join me. Yes, he was trouble. But he also seemed to possess a gentlemanly willingness to set aside my secrets in an effort to bring Kira back.

  Now, though, my cards were face up on the table and I couldn’t afford dragging an alpha werewolf along for the ride. So I hesitated one second longer than I should have...at which point Gunner struck.

  Between one eye blink and the next, his hand was inside my pocket. Then the ziplock of fake IDs emerged squeezed between skillful fingers despite my attempt to twist away. “I...” I started...only to freeze as his other arm landed like a manacle around my waist while the first pried open the plastic bag.

  “You’re running,” the alpha growled, his breath hot against the top of my head. He paged through paper and plastic that Kira and I would need to create a new life together, his voice turning chillier with each flipped over item. “Is your sister even missing? Or is that just another lie?”

  “I’ve never lied to you,” I countered, contemplating ways to free myself from my captor’s handhold. Despite our size difference, I could have used his ill-considered grip to throw Gunner over my back so I could flee while he lay winded on the pavement. Or my star-ball-turned-dagger could stab the pesky werewolf in the gut for a more final form of freedom than that.

  And yet I hovered indecisively, kicking myself for being unwilling to make a move against Gunner. My Arena fights had gone south many times over the last decade, with dozens of matches ending in hospitalizations rather than a simple scratch on the cheek. So why did the mere thought of injuring a werewolf make me shiver uncontrollably now?

  No matter the reason, my opponent didn’t miss the change in mood. His arm softened as he pulled me in closer, and his next words were midway between human speech and werewolf growl. “Tell me what’s wrong and I’ll fix it,” the male murmured.

  He sounded so solid, so dependable. But before I could answer, the decision was taken out of my hands. First came a yip followed by a single howl...then the cacophony grew until lupine voices were erupting all around us from over a dozen throats.

  The newcomers must have scouted the scene before announcing themselves, because they weren’t coming from one direction alone. Instead, they’d blocked passage down the street in both directions, north and south pathways equally cut off from the potential for retreat.

  I spared one quick glance toward the alpha who still held me up against him, hoping this was merely Atwood backup finally making themselves known. But, of course, Gunner would never have allowed such overt wolfishness in a human neighborhood. So I wasn’t at all surprised to see the alpha’s eyebrow’s rising while the air around us filled with the unmistakable tang of fur.

  Nope, the encroaching pack wasn’t friendly. And, based on their numbers, Gunner and I were dramatically outmatched.

  “PUT THIS SOMEWHERE safe, then shift.”

  The ziplock of IDs whizzed toward me even as Gunner spun away to peer down the darkened street in both directions. And while I did take the time to carefully stash the bag into an inside pocket, I just as overtly disobeyed the alpha’s second command. After all, donning my fox form would have been sure suicide. So I molded my star ball into a sword instead and came to stand beside Gunner on two human feet.

  “You’d be safer as a wolf,” he observed, although I noticed the male made no move to follow his own advice. Then, when I didn’t answer: “I don’t suppose you have another sword I could borrow?”

  “Here.” I hoped the darkness was deep enough so my companion couldn’t see my rapier narrowing by half as I pulled a second weapon out of the sheathe along my spine. Star-ball metal was strong if formed properly, so I wasn’t worried that even a half-width blade might fail to do its job.

  What was more concerning was whether being separated from so much of my magic would dull my reaction time. Strangely, I felt stronger rather than weaker as the not-quite-solid weapon slipped into my companion’s waiting hand.

  Gunner nodded his thanks briefly before calling out into the darkness as the click of nails on pavement grew audible against the night. “Last chance to talk out our differences. Don’t start something you’re going to regret.”

  It was a nice gesture on his part, but none of the enemy shifters currently possessed human vocal cords with which to reply to him. Nor did they have any interest in backing down. Instead, they sprang upon us in two synchronized waves, yips and snarls preceding fur and claws by barely enough seconds to allow me to angle my sword toward the shadows rushing toward me out of the night.

  After that, nothing but fangs and growls mattered. And I had to admit that even my star ball wouldn’t have been enough to keep me afloat had I been flying solo. But, back to back with Gunner, we were able to fend off the attackers even if we failed to gain actual ground.

  The night was dark and the wolves were many, so it took me quite a while to figure out who we were fighting against. Jackal, I realized, picking out the white-ruffed wolf even as I sliced a wicked wound through the hamstring of his second in command. Had I been wrong in my reassessing of the situation? Was my pretend boyfriend the strangely polite note-leaver who had snatched my sister off the street in pursuit of an agenda of his own?

  As if sensing my confusion, Jackal shimmered upward into humanity even as two of his pack mates attempted to take me down from the left and right. Good thing Gunner had eyes in the back of his head...or at least the alpha fought as if he did. Knocking one wolf onto its tail with a rather impressive side kick, my partner opened up enough space so I could swipe a welt across the other wolf’s nose.

  Then Jackal was standing naked in the middle of the street without concern for shifter secrecy or human modesty. “You made the wrong decision, little girl,” he told me, advancing forward until he stood just beyond the reach of my sword. “I would have protected you. This filth will not.”

  In reaction, Gunner growled deep in his throat, his back muscles tightening where they pressed up against my own. But my companion didn’t turn his head to answer, just kept attacking and parrying while providing leeway in which I could speak.

  “I want my sister back,” I demanded, ignoring Jackal’s insults and cutting straight to the heart of the matter. “What is it you want in exchange?”

  And to my surprise, my opponent’s brow furrowed while his head tilted to one side. “You want your sister back?”

  I had just enough time to realize Jackal had no idea what I was talking about—that he hadn’t been the kidnapper and note-writer and presumably had no notion that I shifted into the form of a fox rather than that of a wolf. But before I could decide how that understanding changed the face of the current battle, Gunner roared behind me...and a strange lethargy flooded my limbs.

  Meanwhile, a gleaming something whizzed away into the darkness even as my legs began trembling with their effort to hold me erect. I whimpered like a puppy, my vision turned muddy, then—to my eternal chagrin—I fell onto my knees.

  Chapter 27

  I was vaguely aware of an unpadded shoulder cutting into my belly as blood rushed to my upside-down head. Then I was lying flat on my back atop a foul-smelling dumpster, Gunner’s hands rubbing heat back into my limbs.

  “Damn it, wake up!”

  I wasn’t unconscious and I tried to tell him as much. But the attempted words instead came out as a moan even as the scent of fur dampened into bitter-almond concern.

  Gunner dropped his sword, I realized, the words materializing far more slowly than they should have as my own star-ball-turned-weapon throbbed in my clenched right fist. Which explained why I was suddenly weak as a newborn kitten, unable to do more than roll over onto my side and strain against the darkness in search of the other half of my soul.

  To my relief, the second sword hadn’t entirely disappeared into the night. Instead, it was clearly visible twenty feet distant, lying at the feet of a snarling werewolf. If I could just....

  Before I could muster sufficient energy to do anything, though, Gunner was tilting my torso upright and piercing me with the intensity of his gaze. “Mai, talk to me.”

  He sounded so desperately worried. And even though I knew I had more important matters to contend with, I succumbed to the fuzzy need within my belly. Raised my left hand. Trailed two fingers along the knife edge of his jaw...

  ...then jerked aside as skin-on-skin contact hit me like an electric shock. Even the mud in my brain settled in that moment. And this time when I yanked at the distant sword with all of my remaining vigor, the weapon gradually dislodged itself from the ground and began dragging itself toward my wiggling fingers.

  Meanwhile, I did my best to stem Gunner’s angst by letting him know I wasn’t actually perishing at his feet. “I’m fine,” I told him...the words coming out more like “I fie.” Unfortunately, from the whiteness surrounding the alpha’s lips, my consolation hadn’t hit its intended mark.

  But I’d be able to mollify my companion with fully-formed words sooner rather than later. Because the sword was arcing up toward us now, slicing through the ear of a werewolf who had been attempting to scramble up the sheer side of the dumpster protecting us from the melee below. The four-legger yelped and Gunner whirled...and I did the only thing I could think of to prevent my companion from seeing a sword break the laws of physics as it flew upward toward our perch.

  I allowed the weapon in my right hand to dissolve into starlight then used those freed digits to pull my companion’s head down toward me. After that, I kissed him, our lips merging together even as metal-turned-magic reunited with my grasping left hand.

  Hot and sweet and rough all at once, enchantment and sensation exploded inside me in a jumbled mixture that could have been pure passion or might have just been the energetic reunion with my star-ball-turned-sword.

  Either way, I didn’t have long to ponder the issue. Because Jackal was no dummy and his henchmen had access to human fingers if they chose them. So it didn’t take long for several two-leggers to build a ramp of debris leading to our aerial retreat while others maintained their four-legged forms to serve as the vanguard. Now, muzzles mounted the dumpster, hot breath sneaking down the top of my boots while blood-crazed eyes glowed against the night.

  “Shift!” I ordered Gunner, breaking our connection as quickly as it had begun and pushing backwards out of his arms. For half a second he continued to hold me. But then the alpha’s eyes cleared and sharpened as the air filled with incipient fur.

  Gunner must have assumed I intended to join him in four-legged battle. Because he didn’t spare me a second glance, just dropped down into the form of his wolf, fragments of shredded clothing spraying out around him. And while I would have liked to once again stand back to back with the alpha and fend off Jackal’s underlings, our kiss had re-awoken the count-down timer inside my head.