“My…” I glared at her through narrow eyes.

“Yes, your ego. By the way, I’m officially off the clock until we get there, so you can’t play the boss card to shut me up.”

But that had never really worked, anyway. The best way to stop Abby from talking was to kiss her, and since I was willing to rip the face off any other bastard who tried that, the rest of the world was just going to have to listen when she decided to talk.

Abby studied the map Warner had given her. She squinted at a gravel road up ahead, only barely illuminated by the morning sun. “I think that’s it.”

Her pulse was racing over what she assumed would be her first live takedown. Not that I had any intention of letting her get her hands bloody—that was the only thing Lucas and I could agree on without addressing the larger issue. Untrained enforcers don’t see action.

I slowed as we approached the gravel path, then pulled as far onto the side of the road as I could. I got out and closed my door as Lucas rolled to a stop behind me, blinding me until he turned off his lights.

“It’s about a mile through the trees to the north,” Warner said on his way to the Pathfinder.

Abby slid out of the passenger’s seat to the ground, shivering. She zipped up her borrowed jacket and shoved her hands into the pockets, and for the hundredth time, I wished I had gloves that would fit her. I could see clouds of my own breath with every exhalation, and according to the forecast, midday wouldn’t bring much warmth.

She was going to freeze, and I wanted nothing more than to warm her with my own body heat.

“Okay.” I clicked the button to lock my car. “If we were after shifters, we’d have to move quietly, but since we’re after humans, I think we can emphasize speed over stealth for the moment. We need to be there before the sun’s high enough to make us easy to spot. Fortunately, we don’t have far to go.” Even so, we’d have to hurry. The sky to the east was rapidly brightening over the treetops.

We took off into the woods, and after a few minutes of quietly crunching through the underbrush, I spotted a break in the trees. Just beyond the clearing stood the lake cottage.

At my silent signal, everyone stopped while I scanned the empty yard. On my right, Abby breathed into her cupped hands to warm them. She smelled like her roommate and like cedar, thanks to the borrowed jacket and every branch she’d brushed against during our short hike.

Lucas slid one huge arm around his sister and she snuggled close to him for warmth. As badly as I wanted to be the one she was snuggling with, I understood the gesture for what it was—a signal that he was no longer mad at her for failing to give him a heads up about her relationship with his Alpha.

I had yet to receive a similar signal from him, and that was fine, as long as his irritation at me didn’t affect his job performance.

Teo and Warner stood to my left, silently studying the back of the small cottage. The top of the roof was brightly lit by the rising sun, but everything else was still deeply shadowed by the woods. Beyond the building, I spotted the edge of the pond and the thin, dark sheet of ice that had formed on top.

Warner nodded at an old blue Chevy freckled with rust spots. “That’s Hargrove’s truck.” The whispered words puffed from his mouth in white clouds. “The license plate matches the one on file at the DMV. He has to be here.” If not for Warner and his computer skills, we’d probably still be looking for Hargrove and Darren under rocks and piles of underbrush.

Lucas shrugged. “Or he left his truck here and went somewhere with Darren. There’s only one vehicle.”

“We’ll know for sure in a minute. Luke, you and Teo make your way around front. When you hear us make our move, make yours.” I turned and met Abby’s gaze, her eyes shining a brilliant green, now that they’d shifted. “Abby, you’re with me and Warner.”

Abby nodded, but she looked distracted. And scared. Her pulse was whooshing too fast, her heart beating too hard. I wanted to reassure her that she would be in no danger, with Warner and me at her side, but if I did, she’d only insist that she could take care of herself.

Teo and Lucas headed around the side of the cottage, sticking to the woods as much as possible, while Warner, Abby and I watched for any movement or light from the house. When the others rounded the front corner, I took Abby’s hand and squeezed it. “Stay behind me and keep your eyes open. Don’t touch anything you don’t have to touch.” I met her gaze and held it. “I’m serious, Abby.”

She nodded, and that time, I thought maybe she meant it.

Warner and I headed straight across the cottage’s backyard, with Abby on our heels. I climbed the back steps silently and laid one ear against the door. The flimsy hollow-core door told me Hargrove and Darren weren’t expecting a break-in—they didn’t think the rogue stray would find their lake cabin, and they had no clue we were even looking for them.

When I heard only silence from inside the cabin, I gestured for Warner and Abby to give me some room. I shifted my balance onto my left foot and kicked the door, right next to the knob. Wood splintered as the frame broke. The door swung open to smack the kitchen counter, revealing a small table and a grimy linoleum floor.

A second crash of splintering wood came a second later, and the front door swung open. Lucas and Teo stepped into the living room, which was separated from the kitchen and small dining area only by an arch of stained wood.

A suitcase sat open on the floor next to the taxidermied tom Warner had found a picture of in Hargrove’s email. Mateo knelt next to the suitcase and inhaled deeply. “It’s Hargrove’s,” he said. “Matches the most pervasive scent in his house.”

I nodded and sniffed the air for myself. The only strong scents in the cabin belonged to Hargrove and another human man, whom we were assuming to be Darren.

At my right, Abby exhaled deeply. “I smell a few unfamiliar strays, but those scents are older and pretty weak. Other than a faint trace of the same chemicals we found in Hargrove’s basement, I don’t smell anything unexpected.” Tension melted from her frame with the discovery—until her gaze found what hadn’t been visible from outside. The top of the living room wall was lined with the stuffed, mounted heads of dead shifters. And not just cats. There were also a bruin and the bizarrely posed heads and long slender necks of two thunderbirds.

“Please tell me that’s not Elias Keller,” she whispered, nodding toward the mounted bear’s head.