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"No one important."

Her brows climb. "You've gone from being a bad liar to insulting my intelligence."

I send it to voicemail.

"Maren."

"Go home, Gage."

"I'm not leaving you alone."

"I'm not alone. I have a cat."

The cat yawns wide enough to show every tooth.

Reassuring.

"Lock the doors," I say.

"I always lock the doors."

"The back one too."

"Yes, sir."

"If anything happens..."

"I'll call."

"Me."

She folds her arms. "Or the police."

"They won't help."

It's out before I can stop it. Her whole face sharpens.

"Why wouldn't the police help?"

I leave before I answer.

Coward.

Coward, my wolf agrees.

The night smells like the season turning over. Woodsmoke from someone's chimney. Wet leaves rotting in the gutters.

But, under it, close to the maple, there's something that doesn't belong out here.

The claw marks are still there. Burned black into the bark, higher than my head. I put those out of my mind an hour ago. That isn't new.

What's new is under her bedroom window.

I crouch. A symbol scorched into the siding an inch above the sill. A circle. Three straight lines through the center, top to bottom.

I know it.

The Veiled Hand. The coven that wants to recruit Maren for her powers. The powers she doesn’t even know she has yet.