“Oh, that makes all the difference,” I drawled, and Eammon gave a rather obvious coughing guffaw.

Corb cleared his throat. “Sarge and I were working under cover. We were supposed to get close to Hattie. Darv was the one who set us on to her.”

Eammon folded his thick arms across his chest. “Why didn’t you tell us? We could have helped.”

Darv stepped forward. “Information is at a premium, and it is not for the weak. And we weren’t sure that she,” he tipped his head at me, “wouldn’t side with Hattie. They were close when she was younger, and there was a chance that she’d get sucked into the witch’s web.”

My jaw tightened. I could see the concern, and if they’d accused Hattie in front of me, I probably would have defended her before last night.

Louis, Tom, and Eammon started shouting all at once, and I knew then that there would be no reconciling these men anytime soon.

I sat on one of the thickly cushioned chairs, sinking into the pillows and wishing I could sink back into my bed, pull the covers up, and then just ignore the world for a good long while. I noticed the other trainees were saying nothing. “And the group of you?”

“We had no idea,” Suzy said. “Sarge came in with donuts, we all had one and then we passed out.”

“And the attack on Luke?” Again, I could feel my head spinning as I put the pieces together. “You were going to do it anyway, weren’t you? That was why he was so afraid of you, Sarge.”

Sarge shrugged. “Wanting to be a werewolf is a whole lot different than actually getting there. At least he was drugged so he didn’t feel the wounds as much. By the way, you haven’t apologized for sticking me with your knife.”

I glared at him, annoyed by his audacity. “And I won’t. You’re lucky I don’t stick you again.” I paused. “Darv, you just took Corb and Sarge out of there. Why didn’t you tell us they were undercover then?”

“Because we still weren’t sure who was helping Hattie. We knew Joe was, but we also knew you were close to Hattie when you were a child. There was a chance that we could still flush you out.”

My jaw dropped. “You thought I was one of the bad guys?” Then it hit me. Of course they did. I’d been friendly with Crash and Hattie.

I did a slow turn to look at Eammon and the other mentors. “Did you all think I was in on this? Was this entire thing a setup?”

Every single face was a careful blank, a mask of their thoughts. My guts clenched. So much for thinking I belonged. This whole thing had been a sting to flush out those working with Hattie. Even if Eammon, Louis and Tom hadn’t known what was going on, they hadn’t trusted me because of Crash which had worked into Corb’s plans. Joe had been the only true one working with her, Sarge and Corb had been trying to flush out others. And one of those others they thought it could be, was little old me.

Darv held up his hand. “The council thanks you, the Hollows Group, for your help in this matter. We will be in touch.” He turned and strode out of the loft, his booted feet clicking on the stairs as he went.

I pulled myself out of the chair, my body hurting and, worse than that, my heart hurting more than a little too. I was no fool. I knew when I was being used as fodder. Himself had done it for so many years, it was easy for me to see now that my eyes were wide open.

The remaining men argued, and I headed down the stairs and out the front door. I was surprised to find Darv standing on the front step, looking at the cemetery across from us.

“Your gran, Celia, was of great service to the council. We hope that you will follow in her footsteps.” Darv handed me a card.

I flipped it over. Just his name and a number, different than the one I already had. “I’ll discuss it with my gran, see how it was working with a council that didn’t know their arse from their head. When they throw innocents under the bus.” I smiled and his smile faded.

“You do not want to make enemies of us,” he said as he stepped off the sidewalk and crossed to the other side. A truck passed between us, and he was gone. Poof.

Like magic. “Nor do you want to make an enemy of me, you little idiot.”

I walked across the road, barefoot but not really caring. The road was cool on the soles of my feet, and then the grass of the cemetery was soft and inviting. I wove my way through, avoiding stepping on any obvious graves, until I found a stack of tombstones that didn’t belong to anyone. The names had worn off to the point that the etchings were barely there, unreadable, but at some point had belonged to someone. Now, they just leaned up against the fence as if waiting for something to happen. Or maybe for someone to help them get home. For some reason they called to me, and I just stood there, trying to decipher their names that I knew had been scoured by far better professionals than me.

A swaying body stepped up to my right. “Hi, Robert,” I said. “They all thought I was one of the bad guys. And you know what, it sucks. All along they thought I was a mole, and I was just trying to do right by my gran, by everything I’d been taught all those years ago.”

“Friend.”

I sighed. “Friend is tired. Friend is . . . confused.” I paused. “Thanks again, for your help last night. I’ll get you something to eat. What do you want?”

“Whiskey,” he grumbled and I laughed.

“You’re my kind of skeleton. I’ll get you some whiskey.”

He didn’t say anything more, didn’t respond to my thanks. I glanced at him and he was pointing back the way I’d come. I turned to see someone approaching who I really, really didn’t want to see.

Not then, not ever.

Himself strode across the grass, stepping on graves as if they meant nothing, as if no one was in them. “Robert. Don’t kill him.”

Robert let out a low grumble.

“Breena, what the hell are you doing here?” Himself snapped. “I came here to talk to my cousin about the new business he’s starting, and I see you leaving his apartment?” His face was flushed, bright spots of color racing across his cheeks and forehead, right up to where his hair receded. Badly receded, I amended.

Here’s the thing. You shouldn’t argue with a woman who knows all your secrets. Certainly not in public. “I got tired of waiting for you to get it up, Alan. Corb knows how to treat a woman right. He’s very, very good at it.”

His eyes about bugged out. “You’re sleeping with my cousin? Are you serious? You can’t be.”

I smiled, didn’t deny or agree. Just smiled. “What are you doing here, Alan?” I almost called him Himself.

“I’m selling my house.” He put his hands on his hips and began to pace in front of me. “I want to know what you’re really doing here. There is no way that Corb would ever date a woman like you. And you won’t stop me from selling the house. No judge will rescind the divorce papers, I made sure of it.”

My eyes narrowed. “You got my text?”

He gave me a smarmy grin. “You aren’t the only one with connections.”

Oh . . . that son of a . . . .

Corb strolled toward us across the grass. Here was the moment I needed Corb to follow my lead more than any other. “Corb, would you tell your pansy-ass cuz here that you are thoroughly satisfied with me as your current sexual partner?” He owed me, so he’d better pay up in spades.

Himself turned his back to me and I lifted both hands, palms up, and shrugged at Corb. His face was tight as he strode past Himself, his eyes locked on mine as he headed straight for me. “I’m sorry, I can’t do that.”

Crap, so much for irritating Himself. Corb slid an arm around my waist. “I’ve been trying to get her into bed since she got here, but she’s been so busy at her new job, she’s barely looked my way.”

I blinked up at him as he lowered his face and kissed me.

Corb kissing me was not something that I had on my list for the day, though I wasn’t complaining. Certainly not the kind of kiss that leaves your tongue tangled and sends your heart rate soaring, forcing you to grip his shirt so you don’t stumble. He broke it off but kept his face close. “Sorry. Got carried away. I’m sorry, for everything.” Those last four words were spoken quietly, just for my ears.

Himself stormed off, and I do mean stormed. He even pushed through a couple walking hand in hand. They shouted after him and I laughed as I untangled myself from Corb’s arms. “Thanks. That will put a bee in his bonnet that he won’t be able to get out for at least a week.” Maybe two if I were lucky.

Corb didn’t take his arm from around my waist, and I was suddenly very aware of just how close we still were. “Corb. You can let go of me.”

He did, but his hand slid down my arm to my hand. “I always thought you were much too good for him, Bree.”

I pulled away, not because I wasn’t intrigued, but because he’d lied to me. “One kiss isn’t going to make it all better, Corb. You lied to me, and you put us all in danger because of your lies. That’s not how friendships work.”

He gave a slow nod. “Fair enough. Then I’ll just keep on proving that I really do care. I never wanted you to get hurt, Bree. And I never for one second thought you were in on it.”

I nodded slowly, feeling the truth in his words. “That I believe.” I paused and shook my head. “I need to check on one more person, today,” I said. “Two actually.”

Corb looked away from me, toward the river, toward Factors Row. “I don’t know if either of them will be there. He said something about leaving. Getting out of town for awhile.”

I walked with Corb back to his loft and he handed me the keys to his baby, the bright red Mustang he loved so very much. “Just don’t dent it.”

“I can drive, Corb. I’m not that old,” I muttered. I slid on shoes, grabbed a towel and wrapped up what I needed to return, and then slid into the sleek muscle car.

Not exactly inconspicuous with the way the engine revved and the flashy racing stripe down the center of the hood.