Dorothy stared at him for several moments, then reached into her pocket and withdrew a large silver key. She moved warily toward him, then bent down and unlocked the chain that held him bound. “Go, quickly!”

“Come with me.”

“I can’t.” She shook her head. “I wouldn’t know how to survive out there.”

“He’ll kill you for this.”

“Maybe. It doesn’t matter as long as Kiya is happy. She’s had a taste of freedom.” Dorothy smiled sadly. “She told me once that she never wanted to live my life. With your help, I intend to see that she doesn’t have to.”

“If there’s ever anything I can do for you …”

“Just tell her I love her.”

Gideon nodded; then, with a last sympathetic look at a courageous woman, he dissolved into mist and left the house.

Dorothy stared at the place where Gideon had been standing only seconds ago. She had seen many amazing things since coming to live here, but she didn’t know which was more astonishing, watching her husband and daughter transform themselves into wolves, or seeing Gideon dissolve into a shimmering gray mist and simply disappear.

With a shake of her head, she started toward the door, only to come to an abrupt halt when Russell filled the doorway. His gaze swept the room, then came to rest on her.

“Where is he?” Russell asked.

His voice rang like thunder, echoing off the walls, filling her heart with terror. “He’s …” She took a deep breath. “I let him go.”

He glared at her, his eyes narrowed to angry slits.

“Kiya loves him.” It was a weak excuse at best.

“What the hell does that have to do with anything?”

“She deserves to be happy.”

“As her Alpha, Kiya deserves whatever I say.” He took a step toward her, fists clenched at his sides. “She belongs to me. She will do as I say, when I say, the same as any other member of the pack. I thought you understood that.” He took another step forward, towering over her, his rage a palpable thing. “Do you understand?”

She nodded, unable to speak past the lump of fear in her throat. She had never experienced his anger before, never truly understood how dangerous he could be.

Until this moment, she had never considered herself to be part of the pack, or thought of her husband as being her Alpha. It occurred to her that she was at his mercy. As Alpha, he held the power of life and death over the werewolves in the compound. None of them would condemn him, regardless of the punishment he imposed upon her.

It was a frightening thought. She wrapped her arms around her waist, chilled to her very core by the merciless expression in his eyes, the cruel twist of his lips.

This, she thought, taking a wary step backward, this is what death looks like.

* * *

Chapter 30

The night after Dorothy freed him, Gideon stood in the midnight shadows outside the Rinaldi compound. Earlier, he had tried to get inside the fence, but to no avail. It was obvious that Alissano had alerted Victor to the fact that Gideon was no longer a prisoner. And just as obvious that Diego and his family had been warned to take the necessary precautions to keep Gideon out of the compound and out of the house.

He ignored the temptation to contact Kay. Until he could come up with a plan to get her safely away from Victor, it seemed best to keep silent. No point in getting her hopes up.

Dammit! Unless he could find someone to invite him into the house—and the chances of that seemed pretty slim now that the werewolves knew he was on the loose—he would never get her out of there.

It seemed hopeless. Or was it?

A thought took him to Apache Junction and a small white house located on a quiet street.

Clad in a long white nightgown, Kusuma Ila opened the door, a rifle held rock steady in her hands, a black cat on either side of her.

Gideon blinked at her. “Who were you expecting?”

With a shrug, she took a step back, allowing him entrance. “It is late.” She closed the door behind him, then propped the rifle in the corner. “What brings you here at this hour?” she asked, and then chuckled softly. “I guess it is not late, for nightwalkers.”

She cleared a space on the sofa for him, then sat down in her rocker. “Why have you come?”

Gideon shook his head. “I didn’t have anywhere else to turn.”

“Are you still running from Verah?”

“You know about that?” He leaned back on the couch, his legs stretched out in front of him.

Kusuma Ila made a vague gesture with one hand. “I hear things.” Leaning down, she stroked the cats.

Gideon cocked his head to one side. “What things?”

“Verah is no longer a prisoner in the Rinaldi house.”

“Who told you that?”

Kusuma Ila picked up one of the cats and scratched its ears. “Does it matter?”

Gideon glanced from the cat to the witch. “The cat told you?”

“In a way.”

“What else do you know?”

“Before Verah made her escape from the werewolf ’s compound, the boy gave her a vial of your blood.”

Damn! That swine, Victor, must have helped himself to a few cc’s of his blood while Gideon was at rest.

“Why would that old crone want your blood?” Kusuma Ila asked.

“Don’t you know? You seem to know everything else.”

“I have heard rumors,” the witch replied. “Macabre rumors.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

“Are they true, those rumors?”

“I don’t know. It depends on what you’ve heard.” He blew out a sigh of exasperation. All he needed was another witch who wanted to bleed him dry.

Kusuma Ila snorted. “You think I am like her?” she asked indignantly.

“I sure as hell hope not,” Gideon muttered dryly. “Do you know where she is?”

Kusuma Ila put the first cat down and picked up the other one. Humming tunelessly, the witch gazed into the cat’s eyes for several minutes.

Gideon felt the old woman’s power rise, felt it coalesce around the witch and the cat. It skittered over his skin like tiny electrical sparks.

And then, abruptly, it was gone.

Kusuma Ila shook her head as if to clear it.

The cat curled up in Kusuma Ila’s lap, purring loudly.

Gideon stared at the cat.

It stared back at him, slanted yellow eyes unblinking.

Gideon leaned forward. What the hell? He raked a hand through his hair. For a moment there, while staring into the cat’s eyes, he could have sworn he saw Verah standing in a dark room, chanting softly while gazing into a bowl of dark water.

“She’s gone home, hasn’t she?” he asked.

Kusuma Ila nodded.

“And she’s still hunting me?”

The witch’s silence was all the affirmation he needed.

“She can’t track me,” Gideon muttered, thinking aloud. “So she’ll go after Kiya again.” But hell, he had known that all along, just as he knew there was only one way to protect the woman he loved, and that was to give the wicked witch of the west what she wanted.

“There is another way,” Kusuma Ila said matter-of-factly. “Kill her.”

Gideon glanced at Kusuma Ila. Sitting there, her long white hair in braids, one cat asleep in her lap and the other curled at her feet, she looked like someone’s kindly grandmother, not someone who had just suggested cold-blooded murder.

“I’d love to kill her,” he said, “but don’t you think she knows that? She’s not going to let me get close to her unless she knows I’m not a threat.”

Kusuma Ila stroked the cat’s head, her brow furrowed thoughtfully. “Give me a few days,” she suggested. “And I might be able to help you.”

* * *

Chapter 31

Kay was dreaming of Gideon when someone shook her shoulder. Murmuring, “Go away,” she tried to find her way back into her dream, back into the warmth and safety of Gideon’s arms.

“Wake up, Kiya!”

At the sound of Victor’s voice, she came fully awake, all her senses alert as the horror of the previous week returned full force. If he dared laid a hand on her again, he’d lose it!

Victor yanked the covers from the bed. “Get up.”

“What time is it?”

“What difference does that make? Your father is here.”

“My father’s here?” She blinked up at Victor as he switched on the light.

“Didn’t I just say that?” Victor stood over her. For once, he didn’t glare at her. Instead, he looked uncharacteristically subdued. “I wouldn’t keep him waiting, if I were you.”

Kay sat up, reaching for the robe at the foot of her bed. “What’s going on?”

Victor didn’t answer, merely turned on his heel and left the room.

Something was wrong.

She stared after him a moment; then, drawing her robe tightly around her, she followed Victor downstairs. When she entered the living room, her father turned away from the window. Kay felt her stomach turn over at the somber expression on his face.

Something was definitely wrong.

“What is it?” she asked, unable to keep the worry from her voice. “What’s happened?”

“I’ve come to take you home.”

Arms wrapped around her waist, she stared at him. What wasn’t he telling her?

“Get whatever you need for overnight. Victor can bring the rest of your things tomorrow.”

She didn’t argue. She was all too happy to leave Victor and his taciturn parents behind. All too happy to go home because Gideon was there. Somehow, she would find a way to see him. The thought made her smile inside; had she been alone, she would have laughed with the joy of anticipation, but that would never do, not with her father watching her.

Hurrying back upstairs, she grabbed a change of clothes and a pair of shoes. She was going home!

Returning to the living room, she glanced at Victor. He stood next to the fireplace, his arms folded over his chest, his expression sullen. He remained mute when she followed her father out to the car.