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suitcases to the room he occupied when he was at home. He took his time walking along the extended hall to his father’s office. The room was called an office, but it was so spacious and was filled with so many books, it might as well be a mini-library. Stone questioned whether his father had ever cracked any of them open.
    He rested a hand on the doorknob and paused to collect himself before going inside. Einin had declared long ago when Stone was eight years old, a Hughes never knocked. He was too important to be kept waiting or to be granted permission for anything he wanted.
    “Stone, come in,” his father boomed, standing up behind a desk too large for his stature. The massive oak construction served to dwarf him even more, but no one could tell him that. “You took your time getting here. I drilled James, but he became so flustered and was no use at all for giving me information. You need to replace him. I can name a few secretaries who will work out better.”
    Stone closed the door behind him and crossed the room to first shake his father’s hand and then sit down. While he did, he tried recalling if the man ever hugged him or told him he was proud of him. Stone had no desire for either of those things, but he wondered about it. A mental shrug cast the thought aside.
    “James works well for my needs, Father. Now, shall we discuss my uncle?”
    The reddening in his father’s face amused Stone. The man hated when Stone didn’t cave to his wishes, but he’d raised him to be just as pigheaded as he was. Einin couldn’t blame anyone but himself.
    “Yes, well I’ve had him brought here. He’s set up with our family doctor. However, it is the circumstances surrounding his accident that concern me—along with the fact that a great amount of his blood is missing.”
    Stone’s own blood ran cold. “That’s an odd way to put it. What do you mean by ‘missing’?”
    His father linked his hands behind his back and paced to the window to stare out. “As you know, the shifter heals faster than any human can. There are no distinguishing marks on your uncle’s skin to show where he might have been pierced. He does have a slow-healing gash over the right side of his abdomen where it was suspected that he’d lost the blood. Doctor Martin tells me that the laceration isn’t likely where he lost the blood. Your uncle is old, and he’s not healing to the extent that he once did, but there are signs that the clotting around the wound had begun immediately and was sufficient to keep him from bleeding to death.”
    “So why so much blood loss?” Stone mused.
    “Exactly.” His father spun to face him. “You will assist me as long as it takes to get to the bottom of this, Stone. I don’t have to tell you what it means to keep our family secrets just that—secret!”
    “Of course.”
    “When your uncle regains consciousness, you will question him about what happened, and perhaps we can find out who has done this. I have also sent for Noah, but he hasn’t arrived yet. He’s crafty. He should be able to glean some info from whomever it was your uncle was with in the days before this incident.” His father grunted in disgust. “I suspect there will be a long line of women to interview, but Noah can do that as well. You and I both know your uncle was never faithful the faithful type.”
    Stone made a small sound of acknowledgement. His thoughts raced over what this all could mean. Had someone discovered their existence and wanted to exploit them? The last he’d heard, his uncle had been gallivanting all over Europe. Noah would also have his work cut out for him. The two of them didn’t get along very well, but Stone figured he’d give him a hand finding clues. Stone had many connections he’d made over the years, working with the family whiskey distillery business.
    “I don’t want you tempted too much with those loose women. Your wife has already been selected, and all you need to do is make the decision to