Earlier today, Cat had received a raven asking whether she was fit to serve, and she'd immediately sent back a yes. Now, she half regretted it. Not because of the shift itself—the distraction couldn't hurt. But because she was supposed to work with him.

Sebastian.

Fuck, why was his scent driving her so crazy? Cat rushed to her dorm and lay on her bed, eyes closed. And through her mind's eye, she saw him. His neck, his veins. Imagined herself biting it. Licking it.

She closed her eyes and breathed in and out. She could control this. She would control this.

But she’d never open her mouth to criticize anyone’s lack of restraint again.

She headed back to her room and locked herself in, concentrating on her breathing until she felt a little more in control.

An Intruder

Bash was not looking forward to another night running from the psychotic slayer. Mikar had seemed like an all-right dude until that morning, but he was clearly deranged. Or sadistic. Possibly both.

He'd stumbled into his bedroom and crashed for so long he missed his combat class. Which wasn't the worst thing, given that they no longer had a teacher.

He was in good form the next morning, his muscles having healed overnight. A definite improvement over his previous life. Back when he'd been a huntsman, he would have felt a six-hour run for days, if not weeks.

Working with Mikar again sounded like something right out of a nightmare, so he should have been relieved when he spotted the stubborn and beautiful blonde vamp at the edge of the Wolvswoods close to midnight. Instead, he rushed to her side and snapped, "What the hell are you doing here, Stormhale?"

She rolled her eyes. "My shift."

Bash narrowed his eyes. "You were poisoned just three days ago. With nightbane," he said, like she might have forgotten.

"So?" Cat seemed amused. "We're vampires. If something doesn't kill us, we sleep it off."

He knew that, but he didn't think he'd completely understood just how fast they healed, how different their bodies were, until waking up today. He had no cramps, no aches, no muscle spasms after being chased by Mikar. It made sense that she'd healed too, although poison didn't compare to a marathon.

Bash sighed. "You didn't look okay that day. You weren't just hurt. You were…anxious."

And out of control. He chose not to point that out.

Catherine glared at him, and he could guess exactly what she was thinking—that he had no business sticking his big nose into her affairs. But all she said was, "We'd better start our patrol, don't you think?"

He nodded stiffly before walking in silence by her side.

It was a comfortable sort of silence, and this time, whenever she stopped, he didn't have to ask why. He followed her gaze to watch the stars. Rabbits. Wolves.

Wait, wolves?

Catherine inclined her head in a greeting that didn't feel warm or welcoming. But it did show respect. Bash imitated her, and the three wolves watching them from the shadows glanced at each other.

The black wolf in front, taller than the others, and broader too—was clearly the alpha. A gray wolf stood at his right, considerably thinner but no smaller. To the left was a beautiful beast with reddish fur that might have been a coyote.

"The pack who live in the woods?" Bash asked.

"Yes, I think so. It's no wonder that they'd wonder what's going on, if Levi hasn't told them yet."

Bash didn't know much about these werewolves. Jack had mentioned them once or twice, saying that they were one of the oldest packs in the world. Whatever that meant. He was just surprised that they were content to live here in Oldcrest, although werewolves were territorial. Living near so many witches, vampires, and even shifters from other packs couldn't be easy.

"Maybe he should bring them up to speed," Bash mused out loud.

Cat snorted. "It's not quite that simple. I heard he invited them to the last conclave. They didn't show. Werewolves are…"

The black beast bared his teeth, growling a warning.

Now wasn't the time to insult werewolves.

Cat ignored him, finishing her point. "Proud."

Bash understood proud well enough. He'd been proud of being a huntsman. He was regularly proud of his siblings. Proud of what his family had achieved, too. Choosing to not attend a meeting where crucial information would be shared wasn't pride as much as stupidity.

Bash relaxed as they walked farther south, away from the pack. Fear wasn’t stressing him out; he could have dealt with shifters back when he'd been a hunter. But he knew how volatile they were, and how much they hated vampires.

Like basically every other sup. Their longevity and power didn't endear them to anyone, to say nothing of their ability to rip open throats whenever they felt like it.

The vampires stopped at the edge of the border near the east train tracks.

Someone was there. Right at the edge. Observing the wards. Studying them.

Cat took one step forward. Bash opened his mouth to caution her, but, thinking better of it, decided to stay quiet. He didn't know whether their shield stopped sounds. Instead, he grabbed her hand.

Then he froze. He didn’t expect the simple touch to feel so…noticeable.

She turned to him, eyes full of questions. Bash slowly shook his head, pulling his phone out. Shit. Did he have her number? He didn't think so.

He opened his notes app and wrote, "He doesn't seem to know exactly where we are. Let's not clue him in."

Cat didn't like it, but she acquiesced nonetheless, although she also grabbed her phone and started sending messages. To Levi, or Chloe, or any of the other vampires, Bash guessed. She wouldn't have thought to contact one person, though. So, Bash texted Jack to clue him in on the situation.

Mikar and Luke appeared next to them twenty-four seconds later. Levi and Chloe arrived shortly after, though his shirt was open and she wasn't wearing shoes. They were all silent as a tomb, eyes on the intruder.

He was rather plain. A man in his mid-thirties, perhaps, wearing a tracksuit and a sweater with the hood pulled low on his head. Because that wasn't conspicuous at all.

"A witch," Levi announced.

Oh, so they could talk.

"Don't they say wizard?" Chloe asked.

"Same difference. Witch, wizard, sorcerer, enchanter. That just means they're mortal and use magic," Cat replied.

"Right. Yeah, I knew that."

Bash didn't doubt Chloe had heard this before, but their brains were just so scattered after the change, it was hard to remember the simplest things, sometimes.

"And people who are sups for other reasons, like fangs or fur, but use magic anyway are mages?" Chloe wondered.

"Indeed. Although now may not be the right time to discuss terminology, sweet."

Levi sounded amused and rather patient, but his eyes, still set on the witch—wizard—were anything but. He looked like he might be wondering which one of his kitchen knives he should use to skin him alive.

"Did anyone contact Greer?"

"I'm here!"

They turned to find the witch running toward them, panting hard and holding her sides. If their attention hadn't been focused on the stranger, they would have heard or smelled her a lot sooner.

"Not all of us have superhuman speed, you know," she reminded them.

Mikar winked at her. "Holler next time. I'd carry you any day."

Bash was offended. Carry her? Carry her! What happened to hunting people down and telling them he'd drink them dry if he caught them?

Apparently, that treatment was reserved for him. Or for vampires, in any case.

"All right, what have we here?" she asked as she reached them.

"You tell me," Levi replied, teeth grinding.

Seeing him defer to her was…unsettling.

Bash had always noticed something strange about Greer's position. She was accepted among the vampires, be they ancient or youth, and she'd also been invited to a conclave, unlike any other witch in the territory. Blair and Gwen—Chloe's friends—hadn't even walked on the hill more than once.

But that difference only now really hit him. She was treated like someone who truly mattered. Someone Levi trusted and relied on, like the slayers or Alexius. Which was more than what Bash could say. At best, he was a child they had to babysit.

"A dude. An ugly dude."

"Oh, shush!" Chloe said. "That’s very superficial of you."

Greer shrugged, unapologetic. "I live around GQ model types. That dude is boring. Just saying it like it is."

"We don't care about whether you find the man attractive, Vespian. Is he a threat?"

"No."

"Yes."

The two replies had come at once, equally confident. Greer said no. Catherine disagreed.

The Whisper

Cat would have lied if she’d said she recognized the man at the border of Oldcrest; she'd never seen him. And if she had, she wouldn't have paid attention to him. He was one of thousands, a simple foot soldier of no consequence. But though she didn't know him, she could identify his energy easily enough.

"This place is sealed tight," Greer said. "It's held for over a thousand years against any intruder who hasn't been invited. There's no way this guy can get in."

Cat hated this. She'd planned to talk to Levi, but right now, it looked like she'd deliberately kept crucial information from them.

Which, admittedly, was exactly what she'd been doing. But only because she hadn’t realized that knowledge was relevant until recently.

"Maybe," Cat said. "Maybe not. Well, it might be easier to just try it rather than explaining. Greer, how are your shields?"

Greer grinned, somewhat cockily. "All right," she replied. Meaning, awesome, obviously.

"Okay, can you build one around you? As strong as you can make it."

The witch nodded, then tightened her hands into fists, calling her energy.

Cat had seen mages and witches at work, but never had she felt the air burst around her with quite so much force as the light gray mist that gathered around Greer, followed by a darker energy, black as night. It formed a perfect sphere and then disappeared.