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"She'll leave. I promise you that."

It was a promise she had better keep, or Jack would have both their heads. He didn't have much patience for those who got in the way of Directorate operations.

We padded along the path, heading toward the front of the house. Guards watched our progress, and, after a few seconds, I felt the return of my watcher. This one was a wolf, meaning he would track me better than the first one.

How the hell was I going to rescue Rhoan when I had a tail that would report all suspicious actions back to Starr?

Unless, of course, a little distraction was provided.

I stopped near the end of the house. An old green truck with canvas sides was being loaded near one of the machinery sheds. Though I couldn't see my brother, the link between us said he was there, already inside. As we watched, the last few boxes were loaded, then the back of the truck lifted and locked into place. No one got in the back. Two men got into the cab. Time to get moving.

"We have a tail," I said, as the driver started the truck's engine.

"Where?" Berna's gaze was also on the vehicle, her voice was as soft as mine.

"He's stopped near the last door."

"That's a hundred yards back." Her gaze met mine, speculation rife in her brown eyes. "A wolf shouldn't be able to scent someone that far away when the wind is blowing against them."

I wasn't actually relying on olfactory senses, but she didn't need to know that. "A moot point when this wolf can."

She grunted. "You want me to distract him?"

"Yes, please."

"Consider it done."

She spun and walked back. I waited until the truck lurched into action, then slipped around the corner, wrapped the night around my body, and ran like hell for the back of the truck.

It was faster than I thought it would be, forcing me to leap in a desperate effort to get on board before it got away. I hit the backboard hard enough to rattle it, hooked an arm over the edge of the tray, and hung on for grim death as the road swept by inches from my toes. Not a position I was overly enamored of, so once I'd caught my breath, I twisted, hooked a leg over the tray, and dragged myself inside. My hip caught the end of one box as I dropped down, and I bit back a yelp, barely daring to even breathe as I lay there, listening. The rumble of the engine flowed across the air, joined by the hum of the tires on the road surface. The aroma of spice and leather hung in the air, but the relief that shivered through me was tempered by the fact that Rhoan's scent was heavily interlaced with the sweet, metallic odor of blood. They'd really done a number on him.

Anger rose, anger that was all wolf, all territorial need to protect the pack. Rhoan was my pack, all I had, and whoever had done this to him would pay.

Oh yeah, I could more than understand Nerida's reasoning.

Underneath Rhoan's scent came the twin scents of pine and ocean. Though I could smell them, I couldn't "feel" them, meaning they were human rather than nonhuman. With the way the old truck was rattling, they wouldn't hear me creep forward. Human hearing wasn't that astute.

But I kept the shadows wrapped around my body as I edged around the first box. They might not hear me, but it would only take a glance in the rearview mirror to see me. I was naked, after all, and a naked female of any description tended to catch a man's attention.

Rhoan was about halfway down the truck, thrown on the floor like so much rubbish, his face as beaten and raw as his body. In fact, the only thing that wasn't beaten and bloody was his genitals. It actually looked as if someone had gone out of their way to avoid that area, which was extremely odd.

I dropped down beside him and gently touched his forehead, brushing the sweaty, blood plastered strands of hair from his face. He stirred, and relief filled me. He wasn't as out to it as I feared, even if he didn't immediately open his eyes.

I lightly pressed the com-link in his ear, then leaned close and murmured, "Jack, track this signal. When we are well clear of the gates, stop the truck. Bring medical aid for Rhoan."

I couldn't hear his answer and didn't dare use my own com-link. I'd have to speak a little louder and it just wasn't worth the risk.

After a quick glance at the two humans in the front, I stretched out beside Rhoan and gently cradled him. He stirred again, then opened his eyes.

The brown was unsettling, alien. Not so his smile. "I knew you'd find me."

His voice was the barest of whispers, scratchy with pain, but to my ears it was the sweetest sound ever.

"Isn't that what little sisters are for?" I gently pressed my hand against his bruised cheek as his eyes drifted close again. "Rhoan, who did this to you?"

"Starr. Moss." He shuddered and the pain fury had been keeping at bay rushed through me like a tide. It wasn't just the pain of his injuries. It was the deadly fire of silver.

I licked my lips, trying not to panic. There was no silver knife of any kind stuck in his flesh, nor could I see a bullet wound, but that didn't mean anything. It only took a sliver imbedded under the skin to kill a wolf.

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