So I just saved my breath.

* * *

* * *

“It’s not a bad downtown,” Theo said when Connor had parked and we were walking along the brick storefronts. “Cute, with the flower beds and the signs and the happy couples.”

“Everything’s perfect in Grand Bay,” Connor said. “Until you consider the asshole Supernaturals.”

We turned the corner to reach the street where the shop was located—and stared at one of those asshole Supernaturals.

The black hybrid.

My heart began to thud, blood speeding from the possibility of battle, and the memory of the last time I’d faced this particular monster. My monster watched the scene warily, but hadn’t yet decided if it wanted any part of this particular beast.

“What are we calling them now?” I whispered.

“I think the nomenclature is not the most important consideration,” Theo said. “And I’m going to just take this opportunity to say ‘holy shit.’”

“Asshole Supernatural works for me,” Connor said, and I got a minor warm fuzzy for having thought the same thing.

“It’s alone,” I said. “I wonder if it’s headed for the same place we are.”

“It looks like it could use another dose of whatever candy the spellseller is handing out,” Theo said. “I mean, I know I’m the relative newbie here, but it looks . . . sick?”

It still bore cuts and scrapes from the fight, and it still fit the “stringy” description. But Theo was right—it looked thinner than it had at the bonfire, bone and tendons standing out in sharp relief.

“The magic isn’t doing him any good,” Connor guessed. “It’s tearing him apart.”

Magic had a nasty way of doing that to the uninitiated. It was power, and anyone who failed to respect that usually suffered the consequences. I wondered if that explained why my monster hadn’t yet reared its head. It was attracted to power, but there was degradation here.

“And where the hell are the other three?” Connor asked.

We waited for a moment, watching the other roads for the other beasts to come loping toward us.

They didn’t, but the humans who’d just come out of the bar at the other end of the street screamed. One couple ran back inside; another pulled out their screens to record the scene for posterity.

The beast turned at the sound, swiping out an arm and flipping a bench so it tumbled down the street like a toy.

“Shit,” Connor said. “Anybody by chance have an idea which shifter this is?”

“None,” I said.

“So let’s try them all. Zane! Beyo! John! Marcus!”

He paused between each name, and the beast seemed to flinch when he said, “Beyo,” but it roared again, swiped a planter this time, sending it careening into a bar’s window. Glass shattered, and more humans screamed.

This was about to get very, very nasty.

“I’ll go around through the alley,” Theo suggested, “and come at him from the other side.”

“Do that,” Connor said. “But get the humans inside first.”

Theo nodded, then jogged around the building and out of sight.

“Over here!” Connor called out, and waved his arms, trying to get the beast to move away from the bar, from the people inside.

It lifted its head, bared its fangs at us, and began moving toward us.

“Are all your vacations this fun?” I asked, unsheathing my sword.

“Only the ones with hot vampires,” he said, and pulled his own blade—a wicked-looking thing with gnarled edges. Now on the other side of the monster, Theo guided humans into the bar.

“Go low,” I told Connor. “I’ll go high.”

“Roger that,” he said, and as the distance between us grew shorter, we raised our blades in preparation for the fight.

The creature lifted its muzzle, and I crouched, anticipating the howl that would precede its rush forward.

“Ready,” Connor said quietly, and I nodded.

The howl was unearthly, sending an electric chill down my spine. This wasn’t a beast on the hunt, or even the fury of a clan member who wanted revenge. It was the scream of a wounded animal—and a trapped human.

The beast began to claw at its chest, its arms, still howling, spittle falling from its lips.

“What the . . . ?” Connor asked, and started to move forward, but I held him back with my hand, not wanting him to get too close to the magic.

“Wait,” I said.

Light flashed—not the bright glow of a shifter switching forms, but a sharp and fractured bolt that put the scent of something chemical in the air. With each flash came a concussion of magic, as the boy’s body was racked, pulled, fur displacing skin until there was a final burst of light, and he fell to the ground in front of us, pale and naked and skeletally thin.

“Help me,” he managed, and curled into a fetal position.

“Jesus,” Connor said, and we ran forward.

I caught movement in the spellseller’s window, watched her watch us and make not a single move to help. “Asshole,” I muttered, and caught Connor’s surprised glance.

“What?”

I gestured toward the window, watched his expression go dark. He muttered a curse that was much less mild than mine.

“What’s your name?” he asked, turning back to the boy as Theo made his way toward us.

“Beyo . . .” was all he managed before he passed out.

Connor stood up as a siren began to wail in the distance. “We need to get him out of here. I’m going to move the vehicle around. I’ll be right back.”

“I don’t think we’re going anywhere,” Theo said.

The SUV squealed to a stop in front of us barely a minute later. Connor climbed out, leaving the door open and the motor running, and came around while Theo opened the back door.

“I’ve got him,” Connor said, lifting the young man into his arms as if he were nothing, then placed him in the backseat, closed the door. “I’m going to take him back to the resort,” he said. “I’ll have Georgia keep an eye on him.”

“We’ll talk to the spellseller,” I said. “Maybe witnessing this will have jogged her memory a little.”

Connor nodded, looked at Theo. “Don’t be afraid to show your badge. I’ll come back when he’s settled.”

“Be careful,” I said, and pressed a kiss to his lips.

“Same goes for you, brat.”

He drove off, and we turned back to the woman who stood in her front window, still wringing her hands.

A pretty good metaphor, I thought ruefully. “Let’s go ruin her night.”

Paloma blanched when she saw us coming, then tried to play casual by flipping the “Open” sign to “Closed.”

“Wow,” Theo said. “I don’t know if we should go in now that she’s turned that sign around.”

“Yeah,” I said, pushing open the door. “It’s a real obstacle.”

There was a handful of humans in the store, most near the windows and on screens, reporting what they’d seen—or trying to figure out exactly what it had been.

“I’ll keep an eye on her,” I said. “Can you take care of them?”

“My pleasure.” Theo pulled his badge, raised it. He didn’t have any jurisdiction here, but it wasn’t like anyone was going to read the fine print. “Sorry for the interruption,” he said, “but we need everyone to vacate the premises, please. If you could just all step outside and be on your way.”

Helpfully, he held open the door, waited for them to file out, and closed it again. Then he flipped the lock, turned back to us.

“What are you doing?” Paloma asked, skittering behind the counter as we walked toward her.

“We’re here to get the truth,” I said, idly picking up a geode, examining the crystals inside, then setting it down again. “Because we’re very sick of being lied to.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Paloma said, but her hands were shaking. When she realized we’d noticed, she crossed her arms, hiding her hands.

“I didn’t introduce myself,” Theo said, taking out his badge. “I’m with the Ombudsman’s office. Do you know who they are?”

“Yeah, I know. You don’t have any jurisdiction here.”

“No,” he agreed, “I don’t. But what I do have is information. You also have information, Paloma. And you’re going to give it to us.”

“I don’t know anything.”

“Oh, but you do. Because you’re the only one who could.” Theo looked at me. “Did you know I spoke with the Order earlier today?”

“You don’t say,” I offered, feigning surprise. “And how are things in Milwaukee?”

“Efficient. They keep really good records, and our Paloma here is the only sorceress—registered or otherwise—in the area.” He turned to Paloma again. “This begins and ends with you, Paloma. Would you like to be honest now, or should we just call the Order and let them deal with you?”

She turned her gaze to the window and looked absolutely miserable. “I didn’t know they’d turn into . . . that,” she said, then looked back at me. “That’s the absolute truth.”

“You’ll pardon me if I don’t believe you,” I said dryly. “Especially since, despite your powers, you stood there and watched. You didn’t even try to help.”

“There was nothing I could do.”

Theo looked at me, brows knit in false puzzlement. “Nothing she could do, Elisa. Doesn’t that seem strange?”

“It really does,” I agreed, enjoying the banter more than I probably should have, given what was at stake.

“You don’t have to believe me,” she said. “Maybe I wouldn’t believe me if I was you. But again, it’s the truth.”