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“I’m a member of an ancient society.”

“I am going to kick Elise Hanover’s ass.”

“You know about the Jäger-Suchers?”

“They were here last summer.”

“Werewolf troubles?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe.”

> “I hadn’t heard. I run into a Jäger-Sucher here and there on various assignments. It’s hard not to since we’re both hunting supernatural creatures, but I’m a member of the Nighthawk Keetoowahs. You’ve heard of them?”

I’d learned about the Keetoowahs in school. They’d been formed in the eighteenth century for the express purpose of keeping Cherokee history and language alive.

“You’re a member of a Cherokee society devoted to preserving the traditional ways,” I said. “I don’t see what that has to do with this.”

“That’s what the Nighthawks are on the outside, but on the inside we’re sworn to track down and eliminate evil supernatural entities, like the Raven Mocker.”

“If you know about the Jäger-Suchers, then it would follow that they know about you.” Especially since they seemed to know about everything.

“Sometimes we make use of the others’ resources.”

I wondered momentarily if Edward had used his influence to get Walker’s medical license approved so fast or if perhaps the Nighthawks had their own Edward on staff.

“I asked Hanover about you, and she said she’d never heard of you.”

“She lies.”

“No shit.”

“You don’t like her?” he asked.

“We rub each other the wrong way.”

“Wolf and panther.” Ian was suddenly right next to me. “I can understand why you would.”

“Back up.” I shoved at his chest. I couldn’t think when he was so close. He smelled too good and his body lined up with mine just right. “I’m not a panther.”

“You are.” He drew one finger between my breasts. “Here. Just like I’m an eagle.” He pointed at himself. “In my heart.”

“Speaking of hearts, I have a sudden rash of missing ones, which I hear is the fault of the Raven Mocker.”

“It is.”

“But no one’s seen this thing.”

“It’s invisible.”

As I’d suspected.

“Though not all the time. It’s a person and a raven. Witch and shape-shifter. The Raven Mocker enters the rooms of the dying by becoming invisible.”

“The shrieking?”

“Frightens the victim to death.”

I thought of the terror-stricken faces of the dead, and I wanted the witch to die as frightened as all of its victims had been.

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