“And suckled by a she-wolf,” Connor said, and she nodded.

“And they supposedly took in all the power of the wolf in that process,” Petra said.

“That explains the ‘RR’ on the ring,” I said, sitting on the sofa across from the table. “What was the cult about?”

“The group was started in the nineteen forties during World War Two. A quartet of friends from New York was about to ship off to some really hairy fighting in France. Someone made a joke about how they needed to be heroic and strong like wolves, and they started the club. All but one of them survived the war, and when they came back, they formalized the group.”

“And how did it become a cult?” Theo asked.

“Evolution,” Petra said. “The original founders died, and you add in a little gang warfare, a little cocaine, and a social club becomes something a lot darker. Instead of just using the wolf as a symbol, they start to worship wolves. And it spreads across the country. Local dens start to open up. They pretend to be just another fraternal society, something like the Freemasons, and they put on a good face about charitable works and community service, and maybe that was true in some of the dens. But not everywhere.”

She looked away, eyes scanning as if she was reading from a source. “They took mythology very seriously, created their own tracts and treatises about wolves and their particular favorite—werewolves.”

“The wolf illuminati,” Theo said.

“Not unlike,” Petra agreed. “The cult bought into the Romulus and Remus mythology, decided werewolves were the perfect union of human and wolf—the chocolate and peanut butter of the human and animal kingdoms, if you will.”

“Hybrids,” I said, and she nodded.

“These humans weren’t wolves, or anything close to it, and they wanted to be. So they did a deep dive into Roman history and records, and found a spell intended to bring the power of the wolf into the human body, just as Romulus and Remus theoretically did.”

“Bingo,” Connor said. “Zane and the others found the spell, and they found a spellseller who was more than happy to do a little magic without telling anyone.”

“There are SOA dens in Minnesota,” Petra said, “and I found all this stuff online with not too much hacking, so it’s pretty likely your shifters could find it, too.”

“They found it,” Connor said, “and decided the dogma made sense and wanted to try it.”

“Dogma,” Petra said with a smile. “Nice.”

I looked at Connor. “How did the Pack not know about this cult?”

“I have no idea. Did it ever work?” he asked Petra. “Was there ever evidence the spell did what it was supposed to do?”

“Not in the public records,” she said. “A few SOA chapters said they were successful. They did the spell during closed sessions, claimed Keith or Carl turned into a werewolf, but it was never verified outside the chapter meetings.”

“That’s probably why they didn’t know,” Connor said. “Assuming the magic worked at all.”

“We have to go back to the spellseller,” I said. “We know Zane and the others didn’t do magic, and she does. She must have made the spell for them. If we can confirm how the magic was done, maybe we can figure out some way to fix them. Or stop them.”

“She refused to talk to us last time,” Connor pointed out.

“I believe that’s where I come in,” Theo said. “I talked to the Order’s registrar. They know of Paloma, but she isn’t registered to practice. It’s like being on an inactive list. And, interestingly, there aren’t any other sorcerers in this part of Minnesota—registered or otherwise.”

“So the spell could only have come from her,” I said.

“So the spell could only have come from her,” Theo said with a nod.

“Nice work,” Connor said, and clapped him on the back.

“Thank the very talkative registrar. She’s new, and I don’t think she’s learned yet how little information the Order actually likes to share.”

“I’m guessing Paloma will suddenly become a lot more cooperative,” I predicted, “especially with a visit from Chicago’s Ombudsman.”

“Could we have a little break before we leave?” Theo asked. “We’ve been in this vehicle for ten hours, and I’d really like to stretch. And not smell feet. She wouldn’t let us stop.”

“Lulu?”

“Eleanor of Aquitaine.”

The RV’s door opened. Theo, Connor, and I all reached for weapons. But it was Lulu carrying three cans of tuna.

“That was a quick trip,” I said.

“The shoreline is, like, twenty yards away, and it’s dark. Not a lot of land to scape, you might say.”

“So you raided our larder instead?” Connor asked.

“She’s displeased with my travel-food selections,” she said dourly. “Except for the Cheetos. What’s the status in here?”

“It’s possible,” Theo began, “the assholes—and that’s a technical term—found out about a cult dedicated to this wolf-human hybrid idea and borrowed a spell they came up with.”

“We’re going to talk to the spellseller and hopefully blackmail her into telling us the truth,” I said brightly. “But first, we’re going to take a break.”

“Excellent,” Lulu said. “That will give us a chance to catch up.”

“Will you be discussing anything interesting?” Theo asked.

“Menstruation, feminism, and acai bowls.”

“I’m out,” Theo said, and headed for the door.

* * *

* * *

Silently, Lulu loaded the tuna cans into a narrow cabinet. When she’d closed it, she looked back at me.

“So,” she said, “you changed a human without her consent and didn’t want to tell me that.”

“No-drama rule,” I protested.

She narrowed her already angry eyes. “You didn’t make the drama. You just reacted to it.”

I couldn’t seem to help it. I’d kept up a strong face, even for my father, but here with Lulu, the emotion—and the words—just flew out. “What if she dies, Lulu? What if I did this thing, and caused all this trouble, and she dies, anyway?”

“No.” She pointed at me, her eyes hard and hot. “No. You do not get to regret that, and you don’t get to take it back. You saved her life. Period. If you want to regret anything, regret that the beasts made her a victim. Do not regret doing the right thing. That’s vampire hindsight.”

“My mother—”

“Lived,” Lulu said. “She lived because your father saved her life. Period. I know she had some issues to work through, and that’s fair. That’s her right. But he did the right thing, and so did you. That’s who you are, Lis. You’re their kid, and you’re a good egg. You think I’m going to be friends with a sociopath? No.”

“No-drama rule.”

“No-drama rule,” she agreed.

It helped, hearing her say it. She was my best friend, but that required more honesty, not less. And if I’d done the wrong thing, she’d tell me, then do whatever she could to help me get out of it.

“Thank you. Connor and my dad said the same thing.”

Her lips curled upward. “Good. They’re right. And since I’m allowed to assume you did the right thing, being your bestie, I wasn’t asking about that.” She smiled. “I was asking about him and you and the progression with Connor.”

“I’m not going to kiss and tell.”

“Elisa Sullivan. You may be a vampire, but you are not a good liar. You’ve told me about every kiss you’ve ever had. And the times you didn’t get kissed.”

“What? That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Michael McGregor.”

“Michael McGregor and I went to second base.”

“Michael McGregor accidentally brushed your boob while you were showing off Krav Maga moves. Then you threw him to the floor and broke his arm.”

“Nose. And it wasn’t on purpose. He just had a bad landing.”

Her mouth twitched. “Whatever. The point it, you enjoy sharing details with me. So how’s the trip going vis-à-vis the romance?”

“He’s into me, and I’m on the same page. I’m just trying to . . . let it happen. In between attempts to kill me.”

She reached out, squeezed my arm. “My little girl is growing up.”

TWENTY-ONE

Connor borrowed Georgia’s SUV, and Theo and I climbed in for the trip into Grand Bay proper to threaten the spellseller. Apparently a glutton for punishment, Alexei opted to stand guard at the cabin, keep an eye on Lulu.

“Is it just me,” Connor asked when we were on the road, “or is that cat unnerving?”

He pushed a hand through his hair like a man who’d just survived a standoff.

“Unnerving,” Theo agreed from the backseat.

I glanced back at Theo. “You’re a former cop and an excellent shot”—then I looked at Connor—“and you’re a wolf. We’re chasing down magically enhanced shifter hybrids because you’re required by arcane Pack magic, and you’re unnerved by an eight-pound cat?”

“I didn’t say it was logical,” Connor said. “I just said I was unnerved.”

I wasn’t unnerved by her so much as flummoxed.

What did Petra have that I didn’t? I’d fed her. Called her by her full name. Attempted to pet her, although admittedly that hadn’t gone well.

“For an eight-pound cat,” Theo said, “she sure requires a lot of energy. Maybe she’s one of those psychic vampires.”

I opened my mouth to argue, tell him that wasn’t a real thing. But we were chasing down the rogue spellseller who had probably turned a bunch of twenty-year-olds into those monster hybrids.