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  "Travis!" Sharon cried as a shudder ran through his body.

  She screamed as Travis started thrashing and bucking, clawing at his PRC. The wolf snapped his teeth at me and then pounced on Travis, trying to hold him down.

  Travis' eyes rolled back in his head, showing nothing but the whites, and dark, thick blood seeped from their sockets. The wolf backed off of him and into Sharon, pushing her away as he did. She skirted past him and fell to her knees beside her companion. "Travis," she whispered, balling his shirt in her hands.

  A tortured scream ripped from his throat and dark blood gushed out of his mouth and ears. He grabbed the PRC in both hands.

  "No!" she screamed, trying to pull his hands away, but he knocked her down, rolling and twisting in his frenzy to get the device off.

  Alarm surged through me as the collar gave off a high-pitched warning signal. "Hands off the collar," I ordered. I didn't want to shoot him, especially while he was wearing the PRC, as the injury would be significant without his Were ability to heal and withstand pain. But before I could pull the trigger on the Glock, the collar's laser engaged with a hissing sizzle.

  Travis' scream cut off abruptly.

  He twitched and then shuddered. Slowly his head rolled to one side, severed cleanly, the flesh and bone cauterized. A shocked thud of my heart against my chest and then blackened blood erupted from his neck, spraying Sharon and soaking the ground.

  The wind sifted through the trees, making shadows ripple across his body and over the woman as she stared in disbelief at the blood splattering her clothes and arms. Then a scream exploded from her — a long, piercing sound full of misery. Grabbing her hair in both hands, she tore out handfuls of the long red strands and threw them at Travis' body. Then she lifted her head and howled.

  The gray wolf padded up with his head down and pressed his shoulder against hers. Then he sat down and raised his muzzle in the air, joining her human voice with the haunting melody of his own song. Their sorrow filled the forest around me and soaked into my soul, tightening my throat.

  Underbrush crackled behind me, catching my attention along with a comforting, warm scent. A few seconds later, Cooper pushed through a bank of laurel bushes on the path up ahead, bloodied and battered. His gaze swept over the scene in front of him. His expression darkened when it landed on the gray wolf.

  "Knox," he said, a note of command in his voice. "What's happening to Bone Clan?"

  The wolf ducked his head, ears flattening. His gaze flickered between Cooper and the ground.

  "Knox," Cooper repeated, a growl of warning in his voice. "Friend or not, I will get an answer from you."

  The gray wolf stepped back from the grieving female and his body began to glow. His wolf shape compressed, stretching shapelessly up before sprouting the general shape of arms and legs and a head. The shape solidified, features refining, hands and fingers and feet becoming distinct. The shape of a man's body glowed for a moment and then the light pulled inward, concentrating in the middle of his chest. There was a sharp crack of sound and a naked man stood on the path — slender build with tanned skin, dark brown eyes, and short light brown hair, the tips dyed red, which surprised me.

  Knox crouched down next to Sharon and rested his forehead on her shoulder.

  "My practitioner is gone," Cooper said to him. "Our supplies were taken. Know anything about that?"

  I took a step toward the Weres, anger flaring into my gut. "What have you done with Miller?"

  "It's dangerous to be here," Knox said. "The Alpha's orders—"

  "I'm here on the Alpha's orders," Cooper snapped and Knox flinched. "I've been legally summoned," he added in a softer tone.

  Sharon slammed her fists against her thighs and looked up at me, her outraged face streaked with tears. "Travis is dead," she gritted out. "You see the blood. You saw his madness. One of us is next."

  * * *

  My logger boots crunched across the sticks and leaves cluttering the narrow deer trail as we hiked up a steep hill. Before we'd headed out, Cooper had gone with Knox to retrieve his cache of clothes from where he'd left them, and then they'd collected several large rocks to cover Travis' body. After that, we'd started off, following the trail left by Miller's captors.

  Sharon walked behind Cooper with Knox in front of me. They weren't exactly our prisoners anymore, but something weird was going on and I wanted to keep the Glock handy and my eyes trained on the two of them. As the trees closed in tightly on either side of us, I rubbed the back of my neck and hoped that for once the faint tingling sensation brushing across my skin didn't mean bad things were headed our way.

  Opening my senses wider, I scanned the dappled light and shadows around us and tried to tell myself that I was being paranoid. As a young child, an afternoon in a park had been an unusual and coveted treat. Grass and trees and playgrounds full of kids that had accepted the lies I told them about my fictional perfect family.

  After years of paranormal fighting those parks had turned wild and dangerous, becoming great places to end up as a midnight snack for a rogue Were or a vampire, renegade or civilized — there wasn't much difference. People liked to think that the vamps who'd stepped forward to help beat back the terrorists were just people too. They were probably the same idiots that believed the rumors about Central Park unicorns.

  Cooper signaled for us to stop. In front of him, a line of animal skulls dangled from tree branches and clattered in the light breeze, marking the path. "I'm guessing we're in Bone Clan territory now, right?" I commented.

  Turning left and then right, Cooper pulled in several long breaths, testing the air. "Something's wrong."

  As soon as he said it, a shiver swept up my back and my stomach knotted. That was the only warning I got.

  One minute I was looking around for what in the hell was sneaking up on us, the next, three Weres slammed down on us, dropping from the trees and covered in mud.

  My contraband Glock went flying, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw the biggest of them hit Cooper as I went down under the weight of what I guessed was a male — a young one, based on the high-pitched grunt of pain when I drove my elbow into his ribs. I rolled with the momentum of his weight as he bent into the hit and we tumbled across the leaves and rocks, fighting to get the upper hand.

  We came to an abrupt stop with me straddling him, the heel of my right boot dug into the ground to stop our momentum and the sharp edge of my knife pressed against his throat. "Nothing says 'welcome to our home' like an ambush," I muttered.

  From under the shaggy bangs of his dark blonde hair, his yellow wolf eyes met my angry gaze, then slid down and focused on my chin. Younger than me, he still carried that thin, whip-like build that teenage boys have, though already showed signs of being the kind of guy that women looked twice at. There was also something vaguely familiar about him, though I had no idea why.

  I glanced up and saw Cooper standing in the middle of the path, a big stocky male with short dark hair and almond-shaped hazel eyes on one side of him, and on the other, a woman with a thick braid of silver-white hair down the middle of her back aiming her SIG Sauer P320 at him. She wiped the blood off her mouth with the back of her other hand. "Stand down, Cooper."

  Cooper's beautiful face blazed with anger. "Ryker summoned me."

  "He wouldn't have done that. Not now." She backed up until she was a couple of yards from the kid and me. The barrel of her gun swung around and pointed at my head.

  I felt Cooper's urge to rip her apart roar through him, and the core of energy in the center of my chest flared, sending a whisper of the first stage of a shift tingling across my skin. His gaze locked with mine as the edges of my vision softened to white. I grit my teeth and fought for control, trying to force the energy of the shift into the ground like Cooper had taught me, but the sweet pull called to me.

  Under me, the boy gave a frightened squeak, yanking me back from the edge. I looked down horrified to see a strip of blood across his throat and I eased up on the kni
fe.

  "Have you all lost your minds?" Cooper asked, and I could feel the effort he made to calm himself.

  "Stand. Down," she repeated, her aim never wavering from my head. "Don't make this harder than it has to be."

  A low growl rumbled through Cooper's chest and the boy's eyes got even bigger as if suddenly my knife on his jugular was the least of his worries. "She's mine to protect, Rosalind," Cooper snarled.

  The woman turned pale, but she held steady. "Don't—"

  I gasped as a wave of thick energy rippled over his body and he exploded into light, his form compressing, shrinking and remaking itself into a shape like something a toddler would create when attempting to make a dog the size of a small pony out of Play Dough. A second later, with a loud pop, a fully-formed silver and black brindled wolf lunged at the woman with a snarl.

  His teeth snapped inches from Rosalind's throat as she stumbled back in alarm, bringing her gun up, point blank with his chest. Her finger tightened on the trigger and I sprang off the boy, ramming my shoulder into her side as the gun went off. The explosion of sound shattered into my ears as we went down. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Cooper twist away from the shot, blood splashing the air as the bullet sliced across his bicep.

  The female Were and I hit the ground. I landed on top of her and quickly drove three hard strikes of my fist into her solar plexus. She gasped and wheezed, trying to refill her lungs with air.

  Before she could, I slugged her across the chin and went for her gun. Something hit me from the side like a freight train, knocking me off of her and sending me tumbling through a bush and slamming up against a tree. My head struck the trunk and stars exploded across my vision, stunning me for a moment.

  On the path in front of me, I saw the blurry form of Knox rolling to his feet next to the kid and then springing at Cooper at the same time as Rosalind and the stocky male. The three Weres bore him to the ground, Knox keeping Cooper's teeth from their throats as Rosalind struck him in the head over and over with the butt of her gun.

  I got my arms under me and tried to push myself to my feet as blood soaked the fur behind his ear and fear and anger clawed through me. A wave of nausea twisted through me, and my arms buckled. Cooper's head lolled back, giving Rosalind the second she needed to unhook the PRC from her belt and snap it around his neck.

  Cooper shuddered and collapsed and they jumped away from him, watching as he melted into light and reformed as a man. His back bowed in agony and the muscled chords of his neck stood out as he clenched his jaw. A blinding stab of pain hit me in the center of my chest and shot down into my stomach. I rolled to my hands and knees in time to vomit up everything I'd ever thought about eating.

  When the torture had passed, I spit into the leaves and willed my trembling legs to support me as I got to my feet. Reaching out with my heart for Cooper, I followed the thread of our bond like I'd learned to do in the weeks we'd been traveling. And hit a dead end. I pushed harder, searching for him in that nebulous other world beyond time and space where I'd always found him before.

  There, just out of reach, a whispered breath of his soul....

  Our gazes locked and I saw the same grief reflected in his now hazel-green eyes that knotted in the center of my chest. He'd once told me that only death could separate us, and sometimes not even that. Yet somehow, the PRC had severed our bond. My throat tightened.

  His presence in me was gone. I was alone.

  * * *

  Cooper swallowed a sharp wave of nausea and focused on the burning discomfort where the bullet had grazed his shoulder. As long as his Were DNA was suppressed, healing would be a long and painful process. If infection from rolling around in the dirt didn't kill him first. Or the agony of losing his connection to Addison, his bonded mate.

  He still couldn't believe they'd dared to snap a PRC around his neck.

  Memories flickered through his mind and he latched on to them, desperate to keep the desolate emptiness in his heart at bay.

  The first time he'd been collared was as a cadet with the Bureau as part of their training. He'd promptly thrown up his breakfast in front of the entire squad. PRCs, the lecturer that day had informed them, were the first great invention for humans after the war. A technology that started with the collaborative development of a special microscope.

  Seeing his blood under that microscope had been an amazing experience. The extra DNA coiling up through what otherwise resembled a human's genetics had looked like a glowing strand of white light, normally invisible. The Were scientist leading their group had told them that the genetic addition was what bridged the third and fourth dimension, enabling their species to shift. The collar suppressed that DNA and made their baseline human genetics dominant. As long as the PRC was activated, any paranormal in contact with it was human.

  Between Weres, the synchronizing resonance of that special DNA was what created a bond. Now temporarily pure human, Cooper felt like someone had taken a melon scoop and dug a hole out of his heart.

  "On your feet," Rosalind ordered him.

  He carefully stood, feeling the effects of the fight like he'd never felt anything in his life. "Ryker sent for me." He cradled his side, where he was pretty sure Rosalind had cracked a rib, and gently straightened up. "If you don't believe me, why am I still breathing?"

  Because of who he was, if he'd breached Bone Clan territory without a summons, he automatically became rogue. Rosalind and the others should have killed him as the law demanded. Why hadn't they? And if Rosalind knew about the summons, which she should have, why hadn't she peacefully escorted them to the compound as soon as they'd reached the bone markers?

  "Our orders are clear." She glanced at Noah. The poor kid looked like he was about to pass out. "If the human tries anything, shoot her," she said, handing the teenager the Glock that Addison had taken from the Blood Clan Were.

  Maybe Ryker had changed his mind and rescinded the summons. But then why hadn't Rosalind met them at the border to present his apologies and alternative accommodations, again, as protocol demanded?

  Cooper's stomach knotted. What had happened to his brother?

  "Disengage your PRC," Rosalind ordered and Addison's gaze flashed with anger. She looked on the brink of launching into a killing rampage, but she glanced at him and he shook his head, so she reluctantly complied. His brother's Captain took the collar from her and hooked it onto her own belt.

  Stripping out of her shirt to the sports bra underneath, Rosalind wiped off some of the mud that she'd covered herself with to hide her scent and then ripped off one of the sleeves. After tying it tightly around his wounded arm, she handed him what was left of the shirt to tie around his hips. At least she hadn't forgotten all of her manners.

  Brushing the tips of his fingers across the cool metal of the PRC, Cooper caught and held her gaze until the Bone Clan's Captain of Security glanced away. He then swept his gaze over Addison, noting the bruise on her arm, the small cut on her lip, the gash on her forehead.

  "I'll remember," he growled, scowling at Rosalind to hammer the point home. There were good reasons why he wasn't allowed to cross their borders without an invitation. She needed to be reminded of that.

  Facing forward, he supported his injured arm with his other hand and started down the path, trusting his captors would follow. Once he met with Ryker, he'd find out what was going on and together they would solve whatever was making his Clan act like paranoid lunatics. After that, he'd pursue the real reason that he'd accepted his brother's summons in the first place. If he still could.

  The empty sorrow of losing the bond hit him again, but he refused to give in to it. There was no reason to believe that the severing of his connection with Addison was permanent.

  He had to hold on to that.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Rosalind and her minions marched us up the skull path as it wound through the woods. I kept a sharp eye on Cooper now that I couldn't sense how he was and tried to ignore how empty I felt. I reminded myself that
we'd done fine before my Were side awakened and we'd be fine now. When I wasn't giving myself a pep talk, I stared a hole in the back of the white-haired bitch's head, the Were Cooper had called Rosalind. If she had a good reason for treating her own Clan mate this way, I was looking forward to hearing it.

  After a couple of miles, we came around a bend and the path dumped us into a cleared area of scattered rocks and weeds. Directly across from us, the gates of Hell rose up — the doorway to Cooper's hometown, so to speak.

  Thirty-foot high stone walls stretched to the right and left until they curved out of sight. Standing between were the gates, made entirely of bones. Thick bones of varying prehistoric-level sizes that looked like they'd come from animals that had died out thousands of years ago, if they had ever existed outside of a fantasy book.

  Fear trickled down my back as I studied the patterns the bones made. They reminded me of the patterns I'd seen in the city, particularly the intricate runes running through the gate and fence of a certain Jacob Laswell, leader of the Charlotte practitioners and probably something even scarier than that. I looked away. Sometimes magic symbols could give you a blistering headache or even make you pass out if the spell was strong enough.

  Two nasty looking Weres stood on guard duty, a female who looked like she ate scrap metal and pooped nails, and a bald guy who was built like a professional wrestler, or maybe a bull. His shaved head was covered with tribal tattoos that ran down his neck and over his arms to his wrists and he glowered at me as he stepped aside to let us pass.

  Past the gate was a large grassy area with a long, low building to the left, some of the ground around it fenced in with a few cows, goats and chickens roaming around, plus a pig or two. There was a grove of trees on the left side of the compound, some with bright red apples hanging from the branches, and in front of that, the biggest garden I'd ever seen. Rows of corn rustled in the breeze, plus maybe wheat and a lot of things I didn't recognize. In front of that was a small pond with more buildings and trees nestled up against the mountain beyond that.