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him. But that was all they had going. They had no relationship. Hell, he didn’t even really know her.
    So why did the thought of those long, shapely legs and firm thighs about to be displayed for every pair of male eyes to see really piss him off?
    Music pumped through the heavy oak door. Noah rapped on it. A window slid open in the door and a mean set of dark eyes glared at them. Noah showed an ID.
    “Okay. I know Chantal. Who’s the new guy?” the man behind the window asked.
    “Human. Newly turned. He’s Chantal’s.”
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    The guy looked at Dylan for a second, then nodded, slammed the slider shut and opened the door.
    The interior was pitch black inside with the exception of lights strobing down from the ceiling and hitting a dance floor. Dylan followed Noah and Chantal’s lead to the bar. The place was packed, both on the dance floor and off, every available table occupied.
    “Are all these people werewolves?” Dylan asked, bending low to speak in Chantal’s ear over the loud music.
    She tilted her head back and nodded. “Yeah. No humans allowed.” Damn. He had no idea.
    A group got up and left, so they took their table and sat, giving Dylan a chance to sip his beer and survey the crowd. A mix and match of all ages, all robust and healthy looking, smiling, laughing and partying their asses off. It could be any nightclub in any city, with the exception that these people were lupine.
    “So why do they hide out? Why the exclusivity?”
    “Kindred,” Noah explained. “Plus, if anyone shifts or things get out of hand, no one will be shocked and our covers aren’t blown. It happens. Fights break out, tempers flare, passions rise. Things are just warming up in here. It looks normal right now. Just wait.”
    “Werewolves are a very primal, passionate lot, Dylan,” Chantal added. “Anything can happen.”
    He cast a heated gaze at Chantal. “So I’ve noticed.” Lifting her chin, she said, “You haven’t seen anything yet.” Noah cleared his throat. Loudly. “You two gonna practice verbal foreplay all night, or are we here to do something else?”
    Dylan dragged his gaze away from Chantal’s challenging stare. “Ever see any bad element among your kind? Anything suspicious?” 38

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    Noah shrugged. “There’s always a dumbass or two in the population who want to step outside the secrecy we try so hard to maintain. Think the rules don’t apply to them.
    But they’re easily brought in line. Or eliminated.”
    “Our rules are very clear,” Chantal added. “Break them and you die. The sanctity of the pack is everything and all of us work very hard at maintaining the cloak of normalcy. If one of us is found out, it threatens us all.”
    “So it would be unlikely that the pack would protect a killer of humans.”
    “Protect? No. We wouldn’t turn him over to the authorities, either,” Noah explained. “We’d just deal with him ourselves. But he wouldn’t be allowed to run amok. If werewolves were discovered to be living among humans, they’d hunt us all down. The potential for war would be great. We would never risk the possibility of elimination of our species.”
    “None of us want that,” Chantal said. “We’ll do anything we have to in order to stop this killer. What do you know about him?”
    “He struck a couple years ago in southern California and Nevada, then nothing until a few months ago. Then he hit in Oregon and Washington about six months ago.
    Last three attacks were here in the San Francisco area.”
    “So he’s a traveler,” Chantal said.
    “Or someone who likes fucking with us,” Dylan said. “We get a lot of serial cases that move around for the sheer fun of watching us chase them. That’s their thrill.” Noah drained his drink, then shook his head. “This guy’s pissed off about something. Or at someone.”
    “I wish I knew who the woman was who had called saying she had information,” Dylan said, casting his dark gaze on