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  No. Surely those were costume wings, lovingly bought by one of her parents.

  “They’re real.” Alex nodded at the girl with a wry smile, but the iron behind his gaze meant he hadn’t forgotten the topic at hand. “You can see them because you’re of the Fey and she hasn’t learned to hide them yet; that’s a true child of the Fey.”

  “What do you mean, we’re of the Fey?” Mary exclaimed. Surprise caused a tinge of banshee to come out in her voice, but it was only enough to bring Leila a momentary grimace.

  “Banshee comes from Bean Sidhe, where Sidhe indicates the Fey.” Alex pronounced the second word like she. From her mother, who’d known much more about their Irish heritage than Leila ever learned, she recognized the words to be Gaelic. “Most likely, banshees were born in a few families with such strong human genes, the dominant Fey genetics didn’t completely win out. Instead of being faeries, you’re something separate from humans or the Fey, while you’re closer to human than any other immortal.”

  Leila nodded. “Because we’re not immortal until we die.”

  “Exactly.”

  Mary laughed, surprising Leila and Alex both into turning to look at her. “What? I’m thinking about these elderly women, previously frail and now filled with the gift of immortality. Can you imagine the people they’re going to beat with their canes? And it would hurt.”

  “They’re the ones who predict death the most accurately.” Leila couldn’t help but laugh as well. The image of an old woman in her nightdress and slippers, outrunning her shocked neighbors, was too much for her. “It’s something about anticipating their own death, rather than being taken by surprise, that give them that ability once they’re immortal.”

  “How’d you know that?” Mary asked. “Mom?”

  “I don’t remember when she told me exactly, but yes. Mom explained it to me in a story about an elderly woman who predicted the deaths of the entire family who lived next door to her. Her screams woke them, disturbing them so much that they fled their home and stayed with friends. Later that night, their house burned to the ground from the spark off a streetlamp.”

  Their mother had a tale to explain everything. Apparently, she even told one that convinced Mary not to fear Raphael, as if she’d known her daughter would become a mate to a werewolf. If she’d known both her daughters would. If it weren’t for those stories, she wouldn’t have known what happened when she died and came back, or why her voice had turned into a weapon.

  “It was Winnie.” Alex dragged her from her thoughts, bringing them back to the real problem: who was after her at the dance company. Unfortunately, Leila agreed with him.

  It would have been much easier if there were a cat that lived in the locker room and happened to like to steal batteries, or some sort of magnet that sucked people’s things out of their lockers. Leila didn’t like Winnie, but she didn’t like accusing anyone in her company of attempting to hurt her, either.

  Except someone already did hurt me. If it weren’t for Alex, Zach would’ve finished the job. Was Winnie the backup?

  Mary snapped her fingers. “She was the one who tried to talk to you before lunch, right?”

  “She also went into the locker room about ten minutes after rehearsals began,” Alex answered, nodding. He frowned. “It could have been anyone who went in there during the day.”

  Leila bit her lip. “But she was the only person who tried to get me alone, away from the group.” She hadn’t even noticed, and probably would’ve gone along with it had Mary and Alex not been there. Stupid.

  If she planned to live through the senator’s assassination attempts on her, she’d have to be more careful.

  Although Alex wanted to hunt Winnie down and either kill or force information from her, Leila and Mary overruled him. They’d wait until they could prove she was the one stealing the batteries. After all, Winnie had been friends with Zach. It was both damning and redeeming—a friend would want to know where he’d gone, whether she was in on his nefarious murder plots or not.

  When they arrived near Mary and Raphael’s loft, Alex kept driving, his eyes hard and back rigid.

  “Can you hear that?” he asked through clenched teeth.

  Turning to look at Mary in the backseat, Leila saw her sister was as confused as her. It was plausible that Leila wouldn’t hear something her sister, who had hearing on par with humans, would because her cochlear implants allowed her hearing that was different from the norm. But this seemed to be something werewolf ears could pick up.

  Shaking her head, Leila turned to try to see what Alex was driving them away from. Before she could ask, he was speaking into his cell phone, which he’d turned to speaker and threw onto the dashboard. That hand went into his pocket and stayed there, just as it had the night before.

  He was touching his paper, where his power was stored.

  “Is something wrong, Alex?” Raphael demanded, his voice harsh as it sounded from Alex’s phone.

  “If you consider humans shooting into your loft wrong, then yes.” Alex parked the car, having put at least half a mile between them and the shooters. “Do you have any more of those tranquilizers from last year?”

  Raphael blew out a breath. “We’ve kept a stock of them ever since. Mary, love, are you there?”

  “Present and accounted for, Raphe,” she called. “Not a hair on my head injured; Alex has us a little ways toward the Quarter.”

  “Keep the women safe, Alexandre. I’ll let you know when the humans are taken care of.” Raphael clicked off, and Alex ground his teeth like he’d rather be kicking human ass than guarding two banshees.

  “Silencers on their guns,” he said in answer to Leila’s unasked question. “That’s why neither of you could hear them.”

  They were all quiet as he started the car again, soon stopping closer to the firehouse next to a brown door with a small sign that read, Cochon. They went inside and Alex proceeded to treat them to a supper that would have been phenomenal had Mary’s home not been shot up, reminding them yet again of what they were trying to protect each other from.

  Leila managed to force herself to eat half a fried oyster sandwich, but Mary didn’t touch her plate.

  “If I hadn’t been with you, I would’ve been at the studio today, painting,” she whispered, watching her Coke swirl as she twirled her straw around her cup. “If I’d have survived, assuming no one caught me in the head, I’d resemble Swiss cheese right now.”

  Alex shook his head, and for the first time since he’d seen the humans attacking the loft, he smiled. It was a wry, certain smile, not one brought from amusement or excitement, but it was comforting to Leila all the same.

  “Do you realize how Raphael keeps you protected? Even when you think you’re alone, there’s always someone watching the nearest door.” He reached over, grabbed the other half of Leila’s sandwich and took a bite. “Raphael didn’t have to demand it, either—it’s the way a pack works. You keep each other safe.”

  They got the call from Raphael twenty minutes later. Cael had been grazed in the side by a bullet, but between him and Raphael the humans were taken care of. When they reached the studio under Mary and Raphael’s loft, glass was scattered everywhere, almost invisible in darkness pouring over the early evening. They weren’t out of the car before the police arrived, blue lights flashing.

  Neither officer commented upon the giant black wolf lying across a bench, draped over Aiyanna’s lap as she ran her healing hands over him. She was a shapeshifter which had carried over to him through their mating bond, making him the only wolf in the pack who could change forms at will.

  Instead, the police officers glanced at the humans whose hands were tied together behind their backs. While it was apparent Raphael and Cael didn’t want to kill them, they had no problem hurting those who’d meant to shoot Mary. The human men, their guns thrown into a pile yards away, lay on the glass, which was tinted pink as it shallowly cut into their skin.

  “
Charlotte, Raj.” Raphael nodded to the shapeshifters. His back against the shattered window, he drew Mary to his side. His normally almost-black eyes were a luminescent blue, the color of his wolf’s eyes. “They tried to kill my mate. Give me one reason why they shouldn’t die as well.”

  “Because then we’d have to arrest you too,” Charlotte answered in a dry voice. “You have security cameras out here—” She pointed to a building across the street, and two corners of the windows on either side of the blown-open door. “Give me the footage for evidence, and I can promise you they’ll stay behind bars for as long as the law will allow.”

  Leila couldn’t see anything; the cameras must have been tiny. Alex was right: Raphael put more security in place than she’d given him credit for. Despite what could have happened, she smiled, happier than ever that her sister found Raphael, who’d saved her more than a few times.

  Then again, from the slight tremble in Raphael’s hand on Mary’s shoulder, she suspected Mary did the same for him.

  Raj, the male officer, scratched his head under his baseball cap. “Char and I discussed it on the way here, and we think you’d benefit from some officers stationed here.”

  Raphael’s eyes flashed, but Aiyanna, Cael stalking behind her in wolf form, jumped between the Alpha and Raj before Raphael could strike. Alex squeezed Leila’s hand, but she didn’t recall him taking it in the first place. His lips twitched, unable to contain his smile.

  “Are you suggesting I can’t take care of my pack?” Raphael growled, ignoring Mary and Aiyanna’s attempts to calm him down. Cael snarled, clearly siding with Raphael.

  “I think what he’s suggesting,” Alex said calmly, “is that uniformed officers stationed outside your loft or the firehouse may scare some of these human assassins away before they damage anything else—or anyone else.”

  “It can’t hurt,” Charlotte added, nodding to Alex gratefully.

  Something unsaid passed between Mary and Raphael, and the Alpha visibly relaxed. “We’ll accept your help, so long as you call on us if you ever need help.” He held out his hand. “Our pack repays its debts.”

  Charlotte and Raphael shook hands, and within a few minutes the still-unconscious assassins were all loaded into the police SUV. After they left, Leila helped Mary gather her things to stay in the firehouse while Alex and Aiyanna spoke in the doorway. Raphael and Cael had already left, the former murmuring about borrowing Gris-Gris as a guard for the pack.

  “So we’ve got humans and warlocks out for us,” Aiyanna chirped. She was paler than usual, having drained some of her strength into Cael to heal his bullet wound. It didn’t lessen her mischievous smile. “Anyone up for pissing off the Fey too while we’re at it? How about some vampires?”

  Alex shot her a dry look, which turned to a severe frown before he turned and ran down the spiral staircase. Her eyes widening, Aiyanna ran after him.

  “Those are good vampires! Leave Christian alone!”

  “Uh oh,” Leila murmured.

  Mary grimaced. “He hasn’t met the vampires.”

  Back in February, a small group of vampires had moved to New Orleans in an attempt to flee an evil organization called Pureblood. Initially, they called upon Aiyanna so she could heal the humans they drank from, an act that pulled the entire pack into a battle with Pureblood that almost got her killed. To everyone’s relief, it had brought Aiyanna and Cael together.

  Ever since, Leila noticed the vampires had almost become pack. From what she knew, Aiyanna and another healer living in the city, Cassidy, took turns healing after the vampires fed. If she’d hung around the firehouse rather than avoiding it for the past few months, she would have gotten to know the local vampires by now.

  “I can get the rest of what I need.” Mary shoved a framed picture of her, Raphael and Leila from her wedding into her duffel bag. Miraculously, unlike more than a few of her paintings on the walls, there were no holes piercing the photo. “Go keep your warlock from killing our allies.”

  Leila didn’t need any more convincing. Hurrying downstairs, she met Alex standing with his feet spread apart, one hand in his pocket. He faced two men and one woman. They must have been the vampires Aiyanna spoke of.

  Catching sight of Leila only worsened his mutinous expression.

  “We’re here to help, just like the pack helped us,” the man standing in the center said, holding his hands up.

  “I called them over.” Aiyanna inspected her brightly painted nails. “They sleep different hours from us, so I thought they could watch our backs while we get some shuteye.”

  “I’m Leila.” Pushing past Alex, she extended her hand to the middle vampire, and then the two on either side of him. The man who seemed to be their leader introduced himself as Christian. The other, thinner man was Porter, while the woman was Charlie.

  “I—haven’t been around much.” Leila faltered, glancing at Alex. “I’m Mary’s sister.”

  Charlie grinned. “I couldn’t tell.”

  Like that, the tension lessened. Alex still moved so part of his body stood in front of Leila’s, but he wasn’t touching his talisman anymore, that hand reaching back instead to curve protectively around Leila’s waist.

  While Alex didn’t change his stance, Leila unconsciously leaning into his warmth, Aiyanna and the three vampires discussed plans for the night watch. Porter was unreadable and Charlie friendlier than most humans, but there was something about Christian that seemed trustworthy. He was earnest about protecting the pack, and Leila didn’t doubt his sincerity.

  Mary would be extraordinarily well protected. And so will I. Leila had no intentions of going to the firehouse. She’d continue to stay with Alex, guarded by him and their very fierce Beau. For a moment, she worried about the dog remaining locked in Alex’s house all day, but she suspected he could find a way out to explore if he wanted to.

  The man Alex had sent her and Sophia away from the night before, who she thought saved them from Alex’s outburst, walked into view beyond the broken window with another, completely unfamiliar man. They peered inside curiously, the second man smiling widely. Leila’s stomach dropped.

  Alex stiffened. “I have to go.” He didn’t look at Leila, but in such a low voice she probably misunderstood him, he murmured, “Take care of her.” Only when Aiyanna and Christian nodded did he leave without a backward glance.

  Christian spoke in a hiss, his sharp fangs making their first appearance.

  “Warlocks.”

  Chapter 12

  “WHO’S the blonde?” Jared leered at Leila through the window, and Alex had to fight the urge to knock his teeth in. He wanted to project as much to the warlock, but that would reveal too much about what she meant to him. And he hadn’t been lying to Winnie earlier—Leila was his everything.

  “No one,” Alex answered as airily as he could.

  Brendon threw him a bone. “What happened here? I’ve seen some strange trends in this area, but as far as I know, most prefer their houses without bullet holes.”

  “Humans,” Alex said shortly. “Why are you here?”

  Brendon’s face was an expressionless mask, but Jared appeared supremely pleased with himself. “I’ve completed the mechanism to measure power, and now have the list of the warlocks who’ll survive until next week.”

  “There were some surprises,” Brendon added, throwing Alex a meaningful look while Jared grinned at Mary’s mess of a studio one last time before they turned a corner. If Alex had his way, he’d lead both men as far from Leila and the pack as he could.

  “Will there be a meeting over this?” He doubted it, but couldn’t help but feel the rest of the float deserved to know whatever these surprises were.

  Brendon shook his head, and Jared laughed.

  “We’re altering the spell.” Jared held his hand out. As it waved through the air, different colored pinpricks of light appeared on a glowing map of New Orleans. Where the firehouse stood, there were three yellow dots, whil
e the rest were blue. Throughout the city, the vast majority of the thousands of dots were that same blue, while maybe a few dozen shone yellow.

  “As you can see, not all of the most powerful creatures in the city are warlocks.” Jared sounded more amused than outraged, as Alex had expected. In a single glance, he could see that, according to the map, there were werewolves, faeries and even a kelpie currently in the river who had as much, if not more, energy coursing through them than warlocks who obsessed over seeking out energy and collecting it.

  Alex was shocked. How could such creatures have that much power within them without hunting it down?

  Then again, the three of them stood on the map, all yellow—and he had such a minute amount of taken power with him, it was negligible compared to what he could use. By some miracle, his house with his real store of talismans didn’t show up. His protective spells had held.

  “What are you going to do?” Alex was aware that Jared wouldn’t use this spell, not if it spared any creatures that weren’t warlocks. If the rest of the float knew what they’d just learned, the kind of power other creatures held, maybe without knowing it, there would be a mutiny.

  “Tweak everything, beginning with allowing the yellow light to only represent those with witch blood. That way a few more warlocks will be spared.” Benevolent as Jared sounded, there was more to this “tweak” of the plan.

  “What about these creatures?” He pointed to the kelpie in the river, then a yellow light over on Esplanade, near the entrance to Le Marché Noir. A sick feeling churned in his stomach.

  He already knew the answer to his question, but he needed to hear it before acting.

  This changes everything.

  “We collect, of course.” That was what put the smirk on Jared’s face—rather than be disappointed that warlocks didn’t have the most power, he saw it as a way for him to garner a huge amount of energy in one kill.

  As if he were picking a seed from bread, Jared reached out and took a yellow dot of light…from the firehouse. With a flick of his wrist, he threw the dot out to the side, and a yellow vision of Briony, smiling and talking with someone unseen, grew before them. She had a hand cradling her belly over layers of lace. The gesture sent Alex’s blood rushing, pounding in his ears. They would harm a pregnant woman, who was carrying his friend’s child, over his dead body.