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Master’s eyes were deep-set and dark, his brows heavy, his mouth straight and humorless as an axe cut. Where Ezekiel Korte was lithe and light as a dancer, Grayson Lanning was rugged, broad, strong-boned, and powerful. Natividad didn’t have to remind herself to drop her eyes when he stared at her. The scent of charred wood and smoldering coal that surrounded him was, to her senses, very strong. It enshrouded the entire house. If any ordinary humans were in that house, she could not tell. She was almost sure no one else Pure was in there. She already knew that all the men on the porch were black dogs. No. Not black dogs at all. Dimilioc black wolves.
    Alejandro glanced sideways at her. She pressed his hand hard, trying to steady him. Then she let go, because her brother would have to face the Dimilioc wolves without her help. She was sure he could. She could feel her own heart beating quickly and lightly, like the heart of a bird. Her brother would be able to hear it, probably. She smiled at him anyway, a bright, brave smile that denied fear. On her other side, Miguel did not smile. He looked very solemn.
    Â Alejandro took one step forward, putting himself out in front of Natividad and Miguel, and went to his knees. To both knees. Natividad knew why: he was acknowledging that now it was impossible either to run or to fight. She dropped to her knees as well, knowing the Dimilioc wolves would expect that from all of them. Beside her, Miguel swung the pack down to the ground and also knelt. Alejandro did not glance back at them, but lifted his eyes and looked into Grayson Lanning’s face. Then he deliberately lowered his gaze to the ground.
    â€œWell,” said the Dimilioc Master, speaking to Ezekiel Korte, “When I sent you out after our trespassers, I did not expect you to bring them to back to our very doorstep. Certainly not alive. I gather you believed I would benefit from meeting them personally?” His voice was heavy, a deep gritty bass that was almost a growl.
    â€œThey thought so,” Ezekiel answered, his tone faintly amused. “They’d left their car stuck someplace and were walking in on foot. Along the road, obvious as you please. Asked for you by name.” He leaned his hip on the porch rail and crossed his arms over his chest, looking cool and not very much concerned, for all the world like any posturing teenager. But he was not just any teenager, and he was not posturing.
    â€œThe boy’s human, but that girl’s Pure,” one of the older men said. Dark and heavyset. Old, at least fifty, but still strong. That would be Harrison Lanning, Grayson’s older brother. He was frowning, but did not look actually hostile. The other dark one, about Ezekiel’s age, that one must be Harrison’s son, Ethan Lanning. He had the look of the Lannings and he was the right age. He looked hostile – the only Dimilioc wolf to seem truly antagonistic rather than merely scornful. Natividad wasn’t sure she blamed him, though. It must be hard to be just ordinary when you lived in the same house as Ezekiel Korte.
    â€œYes, Harrison, we all know she is Pure,” said the oldest of the men, fair and light boned. That would be Zachariah Korte, Ezekiel’s uncle. He certainly had the same supercilious tilt to his head.
    Grayson studied Natividad. “She may be Pure, but she’s a child.”
    Natividad looked the leader of the Dimilioc in the face. As he had addressed her, she could answer. She said, as meekly as she knew how, “Fifteen, sir, though I have cousins my age who are married, so I don’t think I’m a child.”
    Heavy brows lifted. “No? Well, perhaps you are right. And you believe your Purity will protect you. What do you think will protect your brothers? Especially that one?” He nodded toward Alejandro. “A black dog openly trespassing on our very doorstep.”
    Natividad’s brows drew together. She opened her