Phil's companion was a little harder to figure out. The lack of any strong scent indicated a vampire. The smell of damp sheep suggested a kilt-wearing Scotsman who'd been caught in a light rain. But which Scottish vampire? Was Angus so pissed that he'd come in person?

They were moving quietly up the mountain path, as if they could sneak up on a were-bear. The thought made Howard smile. There was no mistaking the soft swish of a kilt or the grinding of Phil's boots.

Not Angus, he decided. Phil was taking the lead, and he wouldn't do that if the boss was with him. Ian or Robby? Or maybe it was Connor, resuming his work after a long honeymoon.

Howard's smile faded. All of the guys were getting married, having children. That sort of domestic bliss was unlikely to happen for him. There were a few female were-bears on the island, but they were either taken or related to him.

His gaze drifted back to the rocks where Carly had died twenty years ago. She had trusted him completely, even after he'd confessed to her that he was a were-bear. Since her, he hadn't met another mortal female he had felt he could trust with his secret.

There had been a time when the pain and guilt of Carly's death had nearly crippled him. All through college and his football career he'd allowed himself to suffer as a way to punish himself. But as the years went by, his burden of guilt slowly changed. Instead of feeling guilty for wanting to forget, he now felt guilty that he could barely recall her face. How cruel life was that she had paid the price for Rhett Bleddyn's rage.

Death was too good for Rhett. Howard wanted to watch the sick bastard squirm. He'd have to go about it secretly and stealthily in order to keep his people safe, but with the proper strategy, he felt confident about pulling it off. And if he avenged Carly, then maybe he could finally lay his guilt to rest. He'd been banished for long enough.

A cool breeze swept up from Mishenka Bay, and he closed his eyes to focus fully on the scent - a glorious mixture of salty sea and lush forest. Home. He took a deep breath to let the comforting fragrance seep into his soul, and a new face formed in his mind. Elsa. Beautiful Elsa. She was invading his thoughts more and more each day. Unfortunately that only proved that no matter how clever a strategist he tried to be, he was still a fool.

Elsa Bjornberg was a celebrity, a breathtaking, gut-wrenching beauty, who traveled the world for her successful career. Why would she want to meet some guy from an obscure island in Mishenka Bay, Alaska? Especially a guy who was oversized and turned into a real bear on occasion. The cold reality was that they would never meet. He'd known months ago that his obsession with her was ridiculous. Pathetic. Juvenile. It was embarrassing, so he kept it secret.

And yet, whenever he saw her on television, he felt drawn to her. Not just mildly attracted but somehow irrevocably attached to her. It didn't make sense, but knowing that didn't make the strange feeling go away.

The soft scuffle of a footstep behind him made him stiffen. Holy crap, he'd allowed himself to get distracted. He masked his reaction by swinging the staff up and across his shoulders, gripping each end with his hands.

With his back to them, he listened carefully as he gazed up at the moon, a dull silver disc shrouded in clouds. It would be full tomorrow night. If everything went according to plan, he'd score a touchdown. "Hello, Phil."

There was a moment of silence, then a whoosh of air as Phil Jones exhaled. "How did you know it was me? Alaska is overrun with werewolves."

"They don't use that fancy, girly shampoo." Howard smiled when he heard a low growl in response.

A slight mechanical click emanated from the vampire behind him. Could it be Dougal Kincaid? The Vamp had lost his right hand in combat a few years ago, and Roman had recently fitted him with a mechanical one.

"Dougal?" Howard turned, widening his smile when he saw he'd been correct. "It's good to see you again. You arrived last night?"

The Scotsman tilted his head, studying him. "Someone told you?"

"No. It rained last night, and your kilt smells like wet sheep."

Dougal's mouth curled with amusement. "Ye're in trouble with Angus, ye ken."

"Not enough trouble, if he only sent two of you."

"Believe me, he's pissed," Phil grumbled, then shoved his long, shaggy hair back over his shoulders. "It's cheaper to use the same shampoo that my wife buys."

"I understand." Howard gave him a sympathetic smile. "I won't mention it again since you're so . . . sensitive about it."

Phil's eyes narrowed.

Dougal chuckled. "We have orders to take you back to Romatech immediately."

Howard nodded, still smiling. "Good luck with that."

Phil snorted. "What the hell are you up to, Howard?"

"I thought you'd never ask. I need more players on my team."

"Team?" Dougal asked. "Ye're playing a game?"

"Yes. It's called Payback. It'll be easier to score if I have a few more hands." Howard slanted a wry look at the Vamp's fake right hand. "No offense."

"None taken." Dougal wiggled the fingers on his mechanical hand. "Ye'd be surprised what I can do."

"Tell it to the ladies." Howard motioned to Phil. "Are you in?"

"If you're getting back at Rhett Bleddyn, then yeah, I'm in. Angus can wait."

Dougal scoffed. "Now there are two of you no' following orders. Angus will be royally pissed."

"Maybe not," Phil argued. "He knows what an asshole Rhett is. The guy tried to force my sister into marriage. He was going to kill off my entire family and steal all our land and followers. He's a power-hungry, ruthless bastard."

Dougal nodded, then turned to Howard. "I can see why Phil wants revenge, but what do ye have against him?"

Howard remained silent, then swung his staff off his shoulders and planted one end in the gravelly dirt next to his feet. "I have my reasons. Are you in?"

Dougal's hand produced a series of clicks as he curled the fingers into a fist, then stretched them back out. "What is the purpose of yer game? Are ye wanting to kill Bleddyn?"

"Do I look like a murderer?" Howard frowned when the two guys exchanged glances. "Okay. You've seen me kill, but only in battle."

"You're ferocious," Phil muttered. "You rip heads off with a single swipe."

"So I'm efficient," Howard grumbled, then smiled. "No one has ever complained about my efficiency before."

Phil snorted. "We're just relieved you're on our side."

Howard's mouth twitched. "Are you sure about that?"

Phil stiffened. "You big lummox, why don't you - "

"Enough." Dougal lifted a hand, then shot an annoyed look at Howard. "I need to know more before I decide. Do ye plan to lure Rhett into battle?"

"No." Howard pointed his staff toward a few lights twinkling far out in Mishenka Bay. "You see that group of islands out there? They're called the Bear Claw Islands 'cause there's a big round one and four narrow ones extending north."

Dougal moved closer to the cliff edge. "That's where ye grew up?"

"Yes. On the big round one called The Paw."

"We saw on your bio that you went to high school down there." Phil motioned at the town below and snickered. "A were-bear playing football for the Port Mishenka Marmots? That had to be embarrassing."

Howard arched a brow at him. "I kicked ass on that field. Would you care for a demonstration?"

"Enough, you two." Dougal gestured to the Bear Claw Islands. "Does yer family still live there?"

"Yes. That group of islands and Kodiak Island to the north are where most were-bears live. We're down to about a hundred now."

"Shit." Phil frowned at the islands. "You're in danger of extinction."

Howard sighed. "There was a time, a few hundred years ago, when were-bears flourished and covered the mainland. There were over a thousand of us. But then settlers began moving in, searching for gold, and werewolves moved in, wanting the land. The Alpha wolves tended to bite any guy who found gold, so he would become their minion."

"And then they would have his gold," Phil muttered.

Howard nodded. "The werewolves quickly amassed land and wealth. If someone had something they wanted, they simply bit him to bring him in line."

"The were-bears dinna bite people?" Dougal asked.

"Not usually. It's not in our nature to live in packs. Especially the male bears. We're loners. Unfortunately, that always worked against us. We were spread out thin, each male bear taking a huge territory, and it made us vulnerable. A single were-bear might be able to defeat a small group of wolves, but they started attacking us in packs of thirty and forty."

Dougal muttered a curse. "Ye wouldna stand a chance."

"No. Eventually, in order to keep the cubs safe, most of the were-bears moved to these islands. To make a living, many of the men turned to fishing, but whenever a storm capsized a boat, we would lose five or six of them. With our numbers depleted, a loss like that was devastating."

Phil winced. "The werewolves know which islands your people are living on?"

"Yes. Rhett has over five hundred followers, so we can't afford to draw him into battle." Howard gritted his teeth. "I just want to play with him, make him wish he was dead."

"What did he do to you?" Dougal asked.

Howard stabbed at the ground with his staff. No way was he going to discuss lost love with two guys. "He deserves far worse than what I have planned. Are you in the game?"

Dougal gave him an apologetic look. "I may no' be much help to you. I'm lucky if I'm able to stay awake for more than a few hours at night. The blasted sun here is always up."

Howard smiled. "You could use that as an excuse for not reporting in. Then maybe Angus would send more men."

Dougal tilted his head, his eyes narrowed. "Is that why ye stopped returning his calls? So he would be forced to send us?"

Phil scoffed. "You jerk, you had us worried about you. Why didn't you just ask for help?"

"If I asked, Angus could refuse." Howard leaned on his staff. "Any chance of getting more guys here?"

Dougal gave him an irritated look. "Angus will have smoke coming out his ears."

"Then he should come and help," Howard suggested.

"He's busy coordinating three other missions right now," Phil grumbled. "A lot has happened since you left for vacation."

Howard frowned. After the skirmish with Rhett in Montana, everything had seemed to calm down. "What's going on?"

"We're still trying to find Russell," Phil began. "J.L. and Rajiv went to China to hunt for him."

"That's good." Howard had often wondered how Russell was doing. The former Marine and newly turned vampire had gone AWOL in China after their last mission there. As Russell's sire, Angus probably felt some responsibility for him. Everyone assumed Russell was hunting for Master Han, the evil vampire who had left him in a vampire coma for forty years.

"There was an outbreak of murderous Malcontents in Albania," Phil continued. "Angus sent some guys there to help Zoltan track them down."

"I see." Howard knew that as Coven Master of Eastern Europe, Zoltan was charged with the task of protecting mortals in his jurisdiction. It wasn't a job he could always do alone, so he often requested help from Angus.

"And then we got an urgent request from President Tucker," Phil muttered. "And when the government asks for our help, we have to comply."

Howard nodded. Now that the president knew about vampires and shifters, he and the CIA were likely to make many such requests in the future. "What is it this time?"

"Seven American tourists taken hostage by a drug cartel in Mexico," Phil explained. "The president asked us to locate them and teleport them out. The only safe way to do it is to have a vampire for each hostage. So that's seven more Vamps. Carlos went with them as their day guard and translator."

"Now ye ken why Angus wasna pleased with yer antics," Dougal said. "He's short on manpower. He had to call me away from my station in Texas."

"I understand." Howard had hoped for a bigger team, but he could manage with only two more. "If you both join us, then we'll have a team of six. The three of us. A journalist and good friend, Harry Yutu, in Anchorage. And two young were-bears from the island, my twin cousins, Jimmy and Jesse."

"What's the plan?" Phil asked.

"We call it Operation Three Little Pigs," Howard replied. "We're attacking three of Rhett's houses. Our first target was one of his fishing cabins. We removed everything from inside, stashed it in our trucks, then huffed and puffed and knocked the walls down. It wasn't too hard, since it was just a shack."

"That was yer house of straw?" Dougal asked.

Howard nodded. "Some hungry cubs on The Paw are enjoying the food, and an old woman got a new wood-burning stove she was needing. My grandfather is very happy with his new rod and reel."

Phil crossed his arms. "You probably left your scent behind. Rhett will know it was you."

"My cousins left behind some deer and squirrel carcasses. The place will be a magnet for hungry animals. There'll be a lot of scents there by the time Rhett discovers it." Howard took a deep breath, then continued, "Last week, we tackled the house of sticks, Rhett's vacation home on the coast of the Kenai Peninsula. We emptied it so we could give all the stuff to some needy were-bears, then took a few axes to the stilts and watched the house slide down the bluff and break apart on the rocks. Most of it floated out to sea."