Uriahand Quinn don’t want to go to school. I’m not particularly keen on letting themout of my sight for over eight hours, but they already have enough problemswith their grades. Besides, I have a feeling that as soon as this is over we’redue for an extended vacation at the ranch.

Azand I have appointment with Greer at the Olivet residence. When Greer, full ofrighteous fury, attempted to apprehend Olivet the previous afternoon, thememory-wiping warlock hadn’t been home. Surprise, surprise. As of the last report fromGreer, Olivet hasn’t returned – likely discouraged by the uniformed officersposted in front of his house. Greer wants Az to go through the house to see ifthere’s anything of magical significance. It seems that the boy’s developing ahealthy wariness of witches.

We’rein the loaner Ike got for his SUV. Now that Uriah and Quinn aren’t around totalk to, she’s taken to playing with the touch screen in the dash. I hope Ikedoesn’t mind having all the music presets changed to alt rock and French-Canadianpop stations. Just another reason I like the old-school dash in my truck. Twoof the knobs are broken off so the presets can’t be changed.

“We’rebeing tracked,” she announces, slowly removing her hands from the screen andtucking them in her lap. “Have been for a few blocks. Maybe since the house. Between the wards and yesterday’s hullabaloo,I’m a little off-kilter.”

Idon’t know which is more alarming: that we’re being followed or that my magic sensoris off-kilter. I glance in the rearview mirror, but there aren’t vehicles backthere that have been around long. Even with the distraction of having Az in thefront seat, I’ve been paying attention to my surroundings. I know when I’m being tailed.

“Nocars behind us, Az.”

“Magicaltracker. Like when you were running. It’s making me itch.” She even squirms inher seat.

“Canyou stop it?”

“Ofcourse. It’s magic. But that’s likely unnecessary. They have a physicalpresence and can be damaged.” Az unbuckles her seatbelt and turns so that she’son her knees peering out the out the rear window. “I just wish I could see it. That’dmake it easier to catch.”

Ipull over into the parking lot of a strip mall. It’s early enough that few ofthe stores are open and the lot is virtually empty. I exit the car. Az skipsaround the front of the SUV to stand next to me.

“What’sit look like?”

“Howam I supposed to know?” Az screws up her face and shields her eyes with theflat of her hand. “I’ve never actually seen one before. I’d think it’d besmall. It can’t be far. Proximity is key for these things.”

TheSUV itself is likely the best place for the tracker to be hidden. It satoutside the school for a while, which would be a good place to place a tracker.It’s common knowledge that two of my pack members attend that particularschool. Then again, it could have been on since Ike picked it up at the rentalagency. Since we’d needed multiple vehicles we had called in advance and headedout as a pack.

Azand I split the SUV up and go over it from exhaust pipe to headlights. It isn’t until I go through the side mirrorsfor a third time that I replace something out of place. The device is black,thinner than a dime, and the size of a postage stamp. Had I not been lookingfor a tracker, I never would have spotted it between the mirror and the frame.

Azwaves her hand over it and then grins. She rubs the back of her neck with herother hand. “Glad that feeling’s gone. It was starting to drive me batty.”

Iresist the urge to crush the device like a mosquito. I want to know more aboutit. This isn’t like any of the trackers I’ve seen before, but then again I likemy bugs to be more technology-based. I trust technology more than I trustmagic.

“Canit be remotely restarted?”

“Notif you let me hold on to it.” Az plucks the device out of my hand and, before Ican turn away, tucks it into the front of her dress. Lucky tracker. “No magiccan get to it as long as I touch it. The creeper can send as many signals ashe’d like, but it’ll be as if you smashed it.”

There’sno telling how many of the pack vehicles have trackers on them. Az calls Josewhile I search the car again. Jose will inspect and clean all the vehiclescurrently onsite and then do the same for the ones that come in. I don’t seethe point in pressing the panic button for those at work. Odds are ourdouchebag already knows where my people work. Az uses my phone to send Jose apicture of our tracker. He’s to destroy the ones that look similar andquarantine the ones that don’t.

Mypack is being followed. My pack has been attacked. The most vulnerable memberof my pack doesn’t stand a chance against the not-Shifters. The idea of her inthe clutches of those mindless beasts puts me on the verge of Shifting. Shehasn’t been around long, but I can’t imagine the pack – or my life – withouther. She’s important to all of us. Essential, it seems, to me.

Shewatches with wide, clear blue eyes as I drop down to a crouch and remove theKahr P380 from my ankle holster. It’s a small gun with a laser sight and littlerecoil. It’s my backup weapon, but it should be perfect for her smaller hands.

“Haveyou ever shot a gun, Az?”

“Yes.I spent two summers with Uncle Evan. One summer was after an… incident… at theplace I’d been staying.” She licks her lips and shifts her weight. Her eyes arestill glued to the gun in my hands. “He taught me how to shoot a shotgun and arevolver. He was going to give me a gun for my birthday, but Aunt Evelyn foundout. I got a new purse and Uncle Evan spent a few nights on the couch.”

“Thisis a last-resort weapon only, got it?” I don’t place the gun into her handsuntil she nods. “I don’t care if you’re the reincarnation of Annie Oakley, whenthere are Shifters involved in a fight it’s damned impossible to get a clearshot. This is just in case Jose can’t protect you. Or you fall out of a damntree.”

Igo over all the Kahr’s specs with Princess twice. She likes the laser sight,but I advise her to only use it when absolutely necessary. It’ll help her traceher target, but it’ll help her target trace her. When we get home, I’ll haveher fire a few practice rounds. I have a spare holster and clip at the house,but for now she carefully tucks the gun in her purse.

Shereaches for my arm before I can pull open her door. Her lips are pressedtogether in a solemn line. “I hope I never have to use it. Not because I’m ableeding heart or anything,” she quickly assures me, “but because I couldn’tlive with myself if I accidentally hit you or any of my family.”

Whenshe says “family” she means “pack” and another layer of my defenses crumblelike a sandcastle at high tide. Which makes it all the more vital that sheprotect herself.

“Ifsomeone is threatening you, you bet your sweet ass you’re going to use thatgun.” I rake a hand through my hair. “This isn’t a pretty thing to say - and ifit hurts your feelings then I’m sorry, but it’s the truth – you are the weakestmember of the pack.”

“Iknow,” she says calmly, though there is a trace of something wounded in hereyes.

“Andif something happens to you, Az, I don’t know how well I’ll be able to controlmyself. I have to think about the rest of the pack. They don’t need me to gooff half-crazed because you got stupid or you hesitated.”

Iexpect her to laugh. I expect her to needle me about the moment ofvulnerability. I expect her to take her advantage and run with it. I don’texpect her to cock her head like an inquisitive bird and purse her lips.

“Sowhat you’re saying is that yourbiggest weakness is the weakest member of the pack. What does that make you?”

Oh,Princess, that’s an easy one. I flash a smile that’s all fangs and malice. “Dangerous.”

Sheaccepts my answer with a soft chuckle. For the rest of the ride to Olivet’shouse, she keeps her hands to herself and her mouth shut. The silence doesn’tgrate on my nerves. It actually gives me a chance to relax and prepare for themeeting with Greer.

Ikeep a hand on the small of Az’s back as we march up the winding path to theopen front door. I suppose Greer figures that since it’s not his electric billhe doesn’t care about the a/c running constantly. I don’t disagree. It’s thevery least Olivet deserves.

“Goodmorning, Detective,” Az greets kindly. She gives his hand a quick shake. “I amhappy to say that you are still free of any memory or mind altering spells.”

“Thankyou, Az.” Greer rubs his hands together and turns to me. He looks nervous. Notsomething I want to see in a detective so early in the morning.

Idon’t give him a chance to weasel out of anything. “What’s wrong?”

“Myguys have done a preliminary search. We found some things – notebooks and files– that you’re not going to like, Rick. The subject matter is disturbing,” Greeradmits. He holds up his hands to stop me from storming past him. “Look, Rick,this raises a few questions. You never mentioned that this was personal.”

Shit.Just what did they replace? I don’t think I’ll be able to keep Greer out of theloop for much longer. “Let me see what you have, Greer, and I’ll tell you allyou need to know.”

Greermomentarily replaces his balls. “You mean you’ll tell me everything.”

Idon’t growl. I don’t snarl or flash a fang. I don’t even glare. I merely raisean eyebrow and keep my voice even. “I’ll tell you all you need to know.”

Abark of shaky laughter passes through Greer’s lips. “Okay, Rick. Fair enough. I’llhold you to that.”

Heguides Az and me to a spacious study. The walls are lined with built-in cherrybookcases. I’m no book expert, but the books on the walls look like firsteditions. They’re old, at least. The desk on the other side of the room islarger than my bed. The room smells of money and magic.

Azflits to the desk. She spins Olivet’s fancy ergonomic chair three times beforeusing her knees to stop the rotation. She bypasses the top two desk drawers andyanks open the third drawer on the left side. Talismans, rune stones, and bagsof herbs fly out of the drawer and onto the leather blotter.

“Thisis boring,” she mutters once the drawer is empty. She frowns up at Greer. “Where’sthe really naughty stuff?”

Greerplops a cardboard box onto the bare space of the desk. The scent of his fearcompetes with the stale odor of magic coating every inch of the room. Withoutwaiting for words of warning or explanation from Greer, Az sticks her hand inthe box.

Shepulls out a hefty black three-ring binder. It’s easier to hover over hershoulder than to try to rip the thing out of her grasp. Clear plastic sleevesmake up the pages of the binder. She cracks open the binder and gasps.

“Greatpicture of you, Ricky.” She traces the pad of her finger across the face in thephotograph. It’s a candid shot of me outside the sporting goods store I use formost of my equipment. The picture is two months old. I don’t remember thatexact day, but I lost that shirt after an altercation with a goo-spitting Lynaxseven weeks ago.

Beneaththe picture is an index card filled with information on me. They are just myvital statistics and a few facts about my business. Nothing earth-shattering. Besides,of course, the knowledge that someone is gathering info on me.

Azflips the page. Greta’s face – stern and all business – stares up at us. Thepicture was taken outside the bar she works at. The card below Greta’s picturehas her birth date, wedding date, the names of her parents, and the address forthe bar. Ike’s picture and info card follow Greta’s.

Eachpage in the binder is on a member of my pack. Each page ratchets up my anger. Someonehas been watching us long enough to know the name of Tommy’s ex-girlfriend andwhich carwash Mark prefers. There is information on which animal each packmember has inside. No wonder Olivet felt secure enough to attack us.

Princessis, of course, the subject of the last page in the binder. The photo is fromthe day we pulled the wolfsbane out of Sally’s yard. The card on her is mostlyblank, but it does contain her real name. It’s what’s below “Astraea Stanton”that brings a smile to my face: WITCH

Azhas a matching grin. She lowers her voice to a whisper. “He doesn’t know who Iam. And you-know-who can’t be behind this. He would never tell anyone I was awitch. He wouldn’t dare sully the term by lumping me in that category.”

Greer’sphone rings. He excuses himself to the corner of the study. I can hear everyword he says, but I’m more interested in what is in the rest of the box. Thereare composition books filled with details on pack members’ schedules. He knowswhat time Uriah and Quinn get out of school and what time Greta goes to work. Hehas notes on how long Ike spends at his weekly happy hour with his coworkers.

“Someonewants the pack out of the way,” Az murmurs, piling up the notebooks.

“Sothey can take over. Looks like you were right, Princess.” I shove my hands inmy pockets to keep from making fists. There’s no one in the room to bash. Well,Greer is always an option, but that won’t do anything but make me feel a littlebetter.

Az’shead jerks up. “Once they are done with you, though, there’s the rest of the PCto deal with.”

Iknow where she’s going with this. It is nice to have someone who can keepup. I never realized I wanted a partneruntil recently. “Something big goingdown doesn’t go unnoticed.”

Shesmothers a laugh with her hand. “Witches are the bottom of the totem pole. Likerats on a sinking ship.”

Sheand I confer for a moment. Our mental lists match. She may have the magicalknowledge, but I’ve been doing this for a long time. We work well together. I like her quick mind and sharp tongue.

Assoon as Greer ends his call, I pounce. “We need a list of stores that have soldlarge amounts of Orrta oil, yuea root, and qax in the past week.”

“What’sthis about, Rick?”

Atmy feral smile, Greer pales. The sweet aroma of fear makes my mouth water. Myanswer makes him break out in a cold sweat.

“Adeclaration of war.”

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