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You’d think they’d want him found. And while I might not inspire them to fear…you should be able to.”
    “Shit, kitten. I think you just said something almost smart.”
    I didn’t grace that pithy comment with a reply. There really, really wasn’t any point.
     
     
    Doyle’s friends didn’t hang out at the lair—not many of the teens did.
    No surprise, really.
    What teenaged kid would want to hang around a place where that crazy bitch might show up? The aunt alone was a good enough reason to run away, if you asked me. Hell, if Kitty-cat Barbie was my aunt, I would have run away, too. I knew what it was like to have blood-thirsty relatives who were somewhat lacking in the sanity department.
    Mine had been my grandmother, Fanis. The mega-bitch to end all mega-bitches. She could even give Kitty-cat Barbie a run for her money as far as cruelty went, I’d imagine.
    Just think about her made me twitchy and I couldn’t be twitchy, so I shoved the thoughts aside and studied the long, low building in front of me. It was cordoned off by chain-link fencing, marked with the insignia of the ANH. Perched on the border of East Orlando, it was clearly non-human territory. Humans could go in, but if they did, there was an acceptable risk.
    Acceptable risk.
    Why did they even bother?
    If anything bad happened, anybody inside with non-human blood was still screwed.
    As long as all the bad shit happened on our side, it didn’t matter.
    But if a human was harmed, we were fucked.
    Of course, if humans ganged up and hunted us down? Not an issue. That had happened just a month ago up in Atlanta. Eight men had kidnapped a high-school-aged girl. Her mother was a shifter. Her father was human. The girl hadn’t manifested.
    That didn’t matter.
    Even though the men had been caught on video as she was forced into a van, nobody was pressing charges. She was still missing and nobody in the human world cared.
    If she’d been my daughter, I would have gutted the men. Quietly. Taken my time and taken them out one by one.
    One thing about that sign, though, it made it clear to me that was I traveling on dangerous ground. People in there played by shifter rules.
    I was now on the job and that meant I’d end up stepping on toes. No safe passage. Didn’t matter if I had some bruiser at my back or not. I was going to step on toes.
    “What is this place?” I asked as Damon came around to stand beside me.
    “Just one of their hangouts,” he said easily, a smile on his face.
    That smile alone was enough to warn me.
    With a critical look at me, he warned, “They won’t let you in with weapons. And if you try to sneak that sword in, they’ll put you in a world of hurt. Just so you know—they will pat you down. You’ve got a known face, so…”
    “Pat me down? Wonderful.” I started stripping out of my gear. I made a show of taking off my sword. Then I held it out to him. “Why don’t you lock it in the truck, hotshot?”
    The look in his eyes was so full of distrust, I almost laughed. Instead, I just fished my keys out of my pocket and popped the lock, heading to the back of my car and stowing away the knives, my gun, the garrote that worked into my collar. He carried the sword, watching as I put away one weapon after the other. “You’d think you were going to war,” he drawled. “Are you afraid I can’t keep that cute ass of yours in one piece?”
    I kept my head down, letting my hair hide my face as blood rushed up and set my cheeks on fire. I could handle being a little embarrassed. What I couldn’t handle was the other reaction.
    It had been way too long since I’d been laid.
    And he was pretty to look at in a rough kind of way, but there was no way I was doing this. He was just as much trouble as Jude was…
    Jude —
    Like a whispered summons, I grew painfully aware of his presence. It stroked across my skin, brushed across my mind even as I swore and fought the urge to kick at something. What in the hell ...I thought.