“I am,” I said, and then I shivered a little as magic shimmered in the air.

Wade grinned, showing a row of white, white teeth. “Then the wolves are also friends to you, Madeline Black. Tell me, what interest have you in finding the wolf-killer?”

I hesitated. Wade seemed to know a lot about fallen angels, but I was certain that Samiel’s existence was a closely kept secret. And as Beezle had pointed out, there was no way to be sure that Samiel was killing them. Even if I was a true friend of the wolves, there was no need to make them privy to every shadow in Lucifer’s kingdom.

“I came upon the first murder site by accident after feeling a magical pulse in the area,” I said. I felt it was important to tell the truth as much as possible, since Wade seemed to be able to tell when a person lied. “We followed the trail of magic to the body. I was . . . horrified by the murder, and wanted to find out who killed the wolf, but we were unable to discover anything concrete.”

“And today?”

“I was grocery shopping at Jewel when the same thing happened.”

Wade sniffed the air. I felt tense. I needed the wolf to believe me. I already had enough magical conflicts in my life without arousing the ire of a pack of werewolves.

“Very well,” he said, and some of the tension drained out of me. “We would appreciate the assistance of Lucifer’s granddaughter in this matter.”

“How is it that you know Lucifer?” I said curiously.

“I have met with him before, as a representative of my people in negotiations with the fallen,” he said, and grinned. “The werewolves of Wisconsin are sworn enemies of Lucifer. I am sure your great-grandfather will be happy to hear that you have reestablished good relations.”

I felt the blood drain from my face. I’d just stepped in it, again.

“Never, ever play chess with a master, Maddy,” Beezle mumbled from inside his coat.

Forget chess. I was still playing Candy Land.

A little while later we parted ways from my new pals, having discovered nothing especially helpful. Wade, Jude and the third wolf, whose name was James, had sniffed around the site and said that angels had been present, but also something that they could not identify. I’d carefully avoided Gabriel’s glance when the men said that. There was no need to share any information about Ramuell or Samiel with the pack.

The three wolves gathered up the remains of their pack member in a black plastic garbage bag. I valiantly suppressed the urge to boot as they scooped completely unidentifiable bits of flesh and bone into the sack. Jude glared sullenly at Gabriel and myself all the while, like he would follow his alpha’s orders but was reserving judgment on us. James tracked me constantly with his disconcerting gaze. Obviously the other two wolves did not share Wade’s assessment of me.

As they departed, Wade called out, “We will meet again, Madeline Black. En Taro Adun!”

“What the hell does that mean?” I muttered to Beezle.

“Do I look like some kind of dog translator?” he snapped. He was feeling cranky because he’d missed out on doughnuts—I’d dropped the basket at Jewel—and he’d also missed his usual morning nap in his perch.

“No,” I said vaguely. “It doesn’t sound like werewolf language.”

“And what would you know about werewolf language?” Beezle grumbled.

I ignored his jibe. Normally I enjoyed sparring with Beezle when he was grumpy, but I was worried about what Lucifer would say when he discovered that I had reestablished relations with the werewolves of Wisconsin. Would he be pleased? Would he be furious? I couldn’t care less if he was pleased, since getting Lucifer’s approval was not high on my to-do list. But I really didn’t want him angry with me. I had enough problems without being in the soup with the Prince of Darkness.

Gabriel had tried to warn me. I’d seen the little shake of the head, telling me not to do what I was about to do. But I had done it anyway. I understood that I didn’t know my way around this world yet, and that I needed guidance. But it chafed when I felt like someone else was always making my decisions for me.

“Of course, decisions don’t seem to be my best thing,” I muttered to myself.

“What? What?” Beezle shouted. “You’ll have to speak up. I’m an old gargoyle and I’m feeling faint from lack of nourishment.”

“Oh, for crying out loud,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Gabriel, let’s take this baby home so that he can eat.”

“Popcorn!” Beezle said.

“We’ll see,” I replied, moving toward the place where the alley emptied back out to Nelson. I glanced behind me to see if Gabriel was following, and then stopped.

Gabriel wasn’t there.

5

“GABRIEL?” I CALLED. MAYBE HE WAS JUST OUT OF sight, around the corner of the T-junction. “Gabriel, where are you?”

“That fool probably got distracted by something and wandered away. The two of you seem to think you’re investigators,” Beezle muttered. “He might have found a clue.”

“He would have told me,” I said, jogging down the length of the alley to the junction and looking down. He wasn’t there.

“Maybe he followed the wolves,” Beezle said. His tone said that he was supremely unconcerned with Gabriel’s whereabouts.

“He would have told me,” I repeated, starting to get angry. “He wouldn’t leave me, not for a second. He’s still feeling guilty for not being there when Antares attacked. And Azazel would have Gabriel’s head on a shelf if he walked away from me and I got hurt.”