Lyon watched him. "How so?"

"He leaped on the fox so fast I thought he was going to tear his head off. I think he could have. Instead, he nipped him in the butt."

Wulfe grunted. "If you call a soccerball-sized chunk of fur a nip."

"My point is he pulled his punch. At the very least, he could have ripped off his hind leg. And he didn't. I shifted and cut off his two back legs far too easily."

"What are you saying, Vhype?" Lyon asked.

"I don't think Grizz wanted to be fighting us. Something was controlling him."

"Which doesn't fit with enthrallment. The enthralled can't fight it." Lyon paced the front of the room. "Is there any possibility their souls were stolen?"

Faith clenched her hands together in her lap. They were looking in the wrong place. Because they didn't have all the facts.

Kougar stroked his goatee. "I didn't see any evidence. Then again, none of us realized our previous fox had lost his soul until it was far too late."

Lyon frowned. "We have to figure out what the Mage have done to them."

Faith reached for Hawke, touching his arm. When he turned to her, she whispered, "I might know something."

All heads swiveled her way, putting her in a spotlight she wasn't entirely ready for. She took a deep breath, then said what she needed to. "Maxim told me that the new Ferals were the wrong ones. They weren't the ones who were supposed to have been marked."

To a man, their gazes narrowed. Faith's pulse began to race.

"How did he know that?" Lyon asked.

"I don't know. He didn't tell me."

"Is there anything else, Faith? Anything else he told you that you haven't mentioned yet?"

Her pulse began to pound. She swallowed. "He told me that the only thing women were good for was the way they screamed when you cut them." Sounds of anger and disgust erupted around the table. "He told me he steals girls off the streets, human girls, and makes them bleed."

"He dies," Wulfe snarled.

Tighe nodded. "Slowly."

Vhyper hissed. "With his cock shoved down his throat."

While the harsh voices ping-ponged across the table, Faith turned to Hawke. His gaze was fixed on hers, fury in the dark depths of his eyes. And pain.

"He hurt you, didn't he?" he asked quietly.

She nodded. "I don't remember much. He clouded my mind." A shudder tore through her, and she shook her head. "It doesn't matter. This isn't about me."

Hawke's grip on her hand tightened, a silent promise that she'd never endure that kind of pain at Maxim's hands again. She managed a smile for him, then looked toward Lyon and the others. "My point is, Maxim is a monster. He should never have been marked to be a Feral Warrior."

Lyon turned to Kougar. "Have you ever heard of this happening? A marking gone wrong?"

"No." Kougar stroked his beard. His eyes narrowed, clearly focused on something not before him. "What if this is what Hookeye was doing at the Ilina temple? Not trying to set up another wormhole into the spirit trap, as we believed, but this. He was there to access the spirit trap and free the seventeen animal spirits. Free them and make them into weapons."

All were silent, startled and thoughtful, except for Tighe and Hawke, who exchanged a confused glance.

"Hookeye?" Tighe asked. "Something else we missed while we were caught in the spirit trap?"

Kougar nodded. "Hookeye was Mage, the self-professed poison master and the one who attacked the Ilinas a millennium ago and drove them into hiding. We found him a couple of weeks ago in the abandoned Ilina temple in the Himalayas. A temple with access to the spirit trap. He's dead."

"Did you hear the animal cries when we were in that trap?" Hawke asked Tighe.

Tighe nodded. "At first, they were just sounds. Snuffles, low growls, a whinny. But then they turned agitated, clearly in pain. I thought I was imagining it."

"I did, too. I wondered if those cries had been echoing down there for hundreds of years. Now I wonder if we weren't hearing the spirits being torn from that place."

Silence descended for the space of a dozen heartbeats.

"So are we saying the animal spirits were poisoned?" Vhyper asked. "With some kind of dark magic?"

Faith swallowed the sound of distress that dug at her throat. Dark magic?

"Have they turned the new Ferals evil?" Tighe asked the question she couldn't.

But she hadn't turned evil. Surely she'd know if she had. She'd have risen up against the good Ferals along with the others. Right?

"It's possible the animal spirits were just the carriers." Kougar's pale eyes turned hard. "If we're lucky, this was a one-time thing. They passed the infection on to the men they marked, then were free of it. No Feral marked in the future will be affected."

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" Lyon asked.

"That we may need to kill the ones that have been marked? Allow the animal spirits to mark the ones they should have in the first place? Yes."

Faith felt the blood drain from her face.

Olivia surged to her feet. "Ewan . . . Polaris . . . does not deserve to die for this! Maybe he wasn't the one meant to be marked, but I'll bet he was in the top three of that polar-bear line. He's a good man, every bit as strong physically and morally as any man here. I've known him for centuries. There's no evil in him. None."

Lyon nodded. "Polaris is a good man and a good fighter. But he tried to kill Hawke." He held up his hand, forestalling Olivia's argument. "We're all but certain he's under the influence of magic, but that doesn't make him any less dangerous. If he can be cured of the darkness, perhaps he'll make a fine Feral Warrior. The same can't be said of all of them."

Good heavens, that was an understatement. They had no idea. She was going to make a terrible Feral Warrior. She barely knew how to kill draden!

As Olivia resumed her seat, Wulfe leaned back. "So why were they marked? Polaris is a good guy, the sabertooth clearly isn't. Eigle got himself killed in his first fight. I understand that the Mage magic probably kept the animal spirits from marking the ones they wanted, but who did they mark?"

Lyon looked to Kougar.

Kougar pursed his mouth thoughtfully. "I'm inclined to believe they were marked at random. Some may make good Feral Warriors . . . or would have if they hadn't been infected . . . like Polaris. Others are the dregs of the race. But most are probably decent men who should never have been chosen."

Or women, Faith thought. Decent men or women.

"The Shaman should take a look at the three we've captured," Kougar said.

Lyon nodded. "I agree. If we're right, Fox will be free of the magic, and we can let him out of the prison. The other two will remain locked up until we can find a cure. If any other new Ferals arrive, they'll join them in the prison. In the meantime, I'll enlist the aid of the enclave here in digging into the backgrounds of everyone who's been recently marked. I want to know who these men are."

"Does it matter?" Kougar's question hung in the air.

Lyon tilted his head. "You think it shouldn't?"

"If we want to maximize our chances of defeating Inir and his army, we need the strongest Ferals. Period. If, goddess forbid, Inir succeeds in freeing the Daemons without us, and I'm no longer certain he won't, then we absolutely must have the strongest. The ones marked are the wrong men."

Faith's stomach cramped. Kougar thought they should all be killed. Even if they were cured. Her pulse began to pound, instinct yelling at her to run. Fight or flight. Deep breaths. She struggled to get control. They didn't know she'd been marked. Yet.

Lyon cleared his throat, and all eyes turned to him. "We need to find a cure for the infection. If we succeed, we'll decide where to go from there. If we don't, then we'll have no choice." They would kill them. His expression grew hard. "I don't need to tell you that this discussion goes no further than this room. The new Ferals absolutely cannot know their fates lie in the balance."

"Where are they?" Vhyper asked.

Wulfe nodded. "I've been wondering the same. And why did they run? They caught us by surprise. If they'd kept fighting instead of taking off, they could have made certain Jag and Paenther were dead. They might have succeeded in killing one or two more of us, too."

For a moment, all were silent. Faith didn't know the answer any more than they did.

"They're Mage creations," Kougar said slowly. "Possibly even Mage puppets. And the puppet master, Inir, most likely, didn't want his puppets destroyed. The fact that they ran instead of continuing to fight supports the theory that the animal will only infect the first Feral he marks. Inir, or whoever was controlling the new Ferals in that battle, must have feared he'd lose too many. It was better to pull them out of there, regroup, and attack again later."

"Not only were they outmatched," Hawke said beside her. "But the puppet master was losing his hold on some of them. On Grizz, at least. He may have feared more would slip from his grasp. He called them to him to reinforce that control."

"To steal their souls," Tighe muttered.

Hawke nodded. "Possibly."

"We have to find them." Lyon began to pace, the general planning his battle strategy. After several minutes, he started issuing orders. "First, we retake and secure Feral House. Then we interrogate the prisoners with the Shaman's help - learn what we can from them. Tighe, have Skye contact the Mage resistance, let them know we're hunting the new Ferals and they may be heading for a Mage stronghold."

"I'll drive up to Harpers Ferry," Wulfe offered. "To make sure they haven't gone back there."

Lyon nodded. "Once Feral House is secure, and I no longer need you there." His gaze swung to Kougar. "Find a cure." He straightened and addressed them all, his gaze sliding from one man to the next. "But our number one job is to protect our Radiant."

Heartfelt, murmured assent erupted around the table.

"The new Ferals need her radiance as much as we do, now. Their first goal is almost certainly to steal her."

"They're not getting her," Wulfe growled.

"No way in hell," Tighe concurred.

It was clear they all loved her, and Faith could certainly understand why. Kara was the heart of Feral House.

Lyon lifted his hand. "We'll leave for Feral House at dawn." Which gave them about an hour. "Meeting dismissed."

As everyone stood, Faith rose, and Hawke pulled her into his arms, resting his chin on top of her head. In Hawke's arms, she felt safe.

Yet, never had her life been more in danger.

Chapter Twelve

They piled into two vehicles. Hawke drove his big black SUV with Lyon in front beside him. Faith and Kara climbed into the far back at Kara's suggestion. Skye, Olivia, and Delaney had remained at the enclave - Skye and Olivia at their mates' bedsides and Delaney because of the babe she carried.

As the vehicle started, Kara turned to her, her eyes sympathetic. "I'm sorry, Faith. I'm sorry Maxim wasn't the man you thought he was."

Faith nodded, brushing her palms over her worn jeans, uncertain how to respond. She hadn't even known Maxim, really, except for his dictatorial, jealous ways. And the cruelty in his eyes that last time as he'd told her all the horrible things he'd done. She kept getting flashes of nightmarish pain and wondered if it would all come back to her eventually, if she'd be forced to relive it all again in her mind.

"I'm glad you're staying." Kara glanced in Hawke's direction, a small smile lifting her mouth before she turned back. "Maybe you'll decide to stay permanently. I'd like that."

Faith's chest squeezed. There was nothing she wanted more that to be with Hawke permanently. If only her situation were so simple. If only she could choose to stay because she was starting to fall for one of the Ferals - a good one this time. Because he wanted her to stay. Not because she would die without radiance if she left. But everything was so complicated. And her choices were no longer her own.

She tried to return Kara's smile, but her effort fell short. "I'd like that, too."

When they arrived at Feral House, the men fanned out. Like the previous night, they were prepared for a battle, although Lyon had been in touch with Pink, and she'd assured him she'd seen no sign of the new Ferals. Wulfe pulled off his clothes, shifted into his wolf, and began sniffing, probably searching for their scent. After a complete circle of the house, he knelt behind one of the cars and shifted back, then rose and dressed again.

"None of them have been here in the past six hours."

Lyon nodded. "Good. Wulfe and Vhyper, replace the broken windows. The rest of you, come with me."

Hawke came over to where she stood with Kara, his gaze soft and concerned, as it always was. As if he walked on eggshells around her. As Lyon took Kara's hand, Hawke wrapped his arm around Faith's shoulders, and, together, they followed.

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly.

"I'm fine, and you can quit asking me that." She smiled, taking the sting out of her words. "I'm stronger than I look."

But though a hint of approval flashed in his gaze, the worry didn't leave his eyes. "When I saw you a couple of days ago, after not seeing you for days, I knew something was wrong. Very wrong. That's why I came to you that night. But you denied it. And I know now I was right."