“Death,” Brax rumbled.
“Werewolves need pack, especially in the first few years. They go crazy without it.”
We’d see. I’d made it just fine. If Caroline wanted out, I’d move heaven and earth to get her out, even if I had to burn the world down around us.
Liam’s phone rang.
He stood and answered it.
I was too tired and too consumed by my own thoughts to eavesdrop. I touched Caroline’s arm again, flinching at the heat pouring off her. She felt like the sun.
“We’ll be right there,” Liam said. He turned to me. “We need to go. The selection begins in one hour and we must attend.”
“I’m not leaving my friend,” I said.
“This is not a choice.”
He reached for me. I jerked away and pointed the gun in a lightning fast move that I would have sworn I was not capable of.
“I’m not leaving my friend,” I said in an even voice.
His blue eyes spit fire at me. I gave him an implacable look. He could glare all he wanted. There was no way I was leaving my friend to wake up with strangers, afraid and alone. He could take all his vampire politics and stick them where the sun don’t shine.
“You know what happened the last time you pointed a gun at me.”
I gave a careless shrug. “I didn’t have bullets with silver nitrate then.”
His eyes narrowed further, and I felt a small feeling of triumph. That’s right. The baby vamp just found a way to even the playing field.
“You are being ridiculous.”
I didn’t care.
“Your friend will be safe with Brax. She will be fine.”
Fine was a long way from great.
“I don’t even know why I’m trying to reason with you.”
His eyes developed a strong pull, the blue deepening until it threatened to swallow me. I pulled the trigger. The gun barking in my hand. A thin slice opened on Liam’s cheek.
“That was unwise.”
I gave a smile that exposed my fangs. “I’ve never been particularly smart.”
Anger coiled around him, charging the air with an almost physical presence. I tensed, my finger tightening on the trigger.
He relaxed, that rage that had been threatening to crush me under its pressure sucked out. He gave me the smile a wolf gives a rabbit he’s cornered, full of wicked danger and smug assurance that he was going to walk away from this encounter the victor.
“Very well. You’re welcome to stay here.”
He was up to something.
“Of course, you’ll be in breach of contract if you don’t show up at the selection.”
I tried to recall what penalty clause had been tacked onto the job. Nothing came to mind. I’d considered it irrelevant once I saw there wasn’t a guarantee of success.
“What are you talking about? The contract mentioned nothing about a penalty if I didn’t succeed in finding the witch or descendants.”
