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sits half in and out of my car, silently watching me go nuts, concern all over his now-visible face. A concerned hit man, doesn’t that go against the code? “Okay, you need to start at the beginning,” I say, taking another drag.
    “About three days ago, a rogue werewolf contacted Jason. He does mercenary work, primarily against other preters. He was approached by Alejandro, Lord Thomas’s second-in-command, about taking out Thomas. And you.”
    “Me? Why me? I barely have any contact with the Lord of Richmond or any vampire.”
    “The rogue didn’t ask. The only reason he told Jason was he recognized your name and knew you were a … friend of the pack,” he says with a scoff.
    “How’d he know that?”
    “He used to be in the pack, but left about twelve years ago. He’s been to the Christmas party a few times since.” Meaning I’ve probably met this man. “Anyway, it was … decided I would approach Alejandro pretending I wanted in on the plot. That I wanted to kill Jason and become Alpha. Basically, it was a ‘I’ll take care of yours if you take care of mine’ deal.”
    “So who wants me dead?”
    “I don’t know. I only dealt with Alejandro. He wouldn’t even say her name.”
    “Her?”
    “As in, ‘This was all her idea.’ I got the impression she and Alejandro were lovers.”
    I take another drag of my cigarette. “As far as I know there’s no one in my coven sleeping with a vampire.” I shake my head. “When was this supposed to happen?”
    “Sooner rather than later. We were just getting into the details last night when some vampires busted into Alejandro’s house and dragged us out. Lord Thomas must have discovered the plot, so that was the end of Alejandro. I barely escaped, and you know the rest.”
    My mind is going a million miles a minute. “B—But wait. Alejandro’s dead. There isn’t a hit man. So whoever wants me dead has no one to do her dirty work.”
    “So she’ll probably just do it herself.”
    I stub out my cigarette. “Fuck. We need to call George. Get the F.R.E.A.K.S. here. The girls will just have to stay with Tamara or Debbie, I don’t know.”
    “For how long? Whoever it is, is going to need to plan. A new time table. It could be tomorrow or six months from now before she tries again.”
    Crap, he’s right. I can’t go into hiding. I have two small children in school and nine million other responsibilities. “What do you suggest? Because this is new territory for me. I guess we could call Jason. He might have some ideas.”
    “No,” Adam says vehemently. “I would not recommend that.”
    “Why the hell not?” I snap.
    “The pack is going through its own problems right now. He’ll feel that with Alejandro dead, the threat was neutralized.”
    “Then I’ll convince him it’s not.”
    It takes effort, but Adam pushes himself into the standing position. “Listen, I know Jason a lot better than you do, okay? You can call him for advice, sure. But you cannot tell him I’m here.”
    “Why not?”
    He hobbles over to me, his slightly bug-eyed blue eyes meeting mine point-blank when he stops. “Because. He’ll order me back to Maryland, and I’ll have to go. Then you’ll be in this alone.”
    I tense from toenails to top at this thought. For once the idea of being alone terrifies me. Normally I welcome it. I fear I’m about to burst into tears, and there is no way I’m letting him see me like that. I turn away. “And why—why would you help me?”
    “I have my reasons.”
    “Them being?”
    “My own.”
    I groan in frustration. What the hell am I going to do? Deep breath. The one I take doesn’t help a lick. Okay, stick to the plan for now. Get him healthy, go from there. Be strong. After a second to compose myself, I spin back around. “Well, you’re no good to me injured. Let’s get to the farm.”
    With shaking hands, I open my car door and climb in. My hands don’t stop vibrating as we drive to the Hackett Farm five miles outside