Headlights off, he restarted the car as I kept talking.

"Once we reach the highway, you'll call Tesler. You'll say your plan failed. You bought Malaysian food, hoping to hide the drugs in something spicy and unfamiliar, but Clay wanted plain American fare. You're going to try again when we go out for drinks later. You'll call him when it's done."

As I talked, Joey nodded constantly, first anxiously agreeing with anything I said, praying I had a clue what I was talking about, then nodding faster as he realized I did.

"Put the car in reverse… and let's get out of here."

He did. And we didn't.

The tires spun, the small car burrowing deeper into the snow-covered lane. I scanned the dark forest anxiously as the whine of the engine buzz-sawed through the silence. He put the car in drive, then reverse, but it only rocked back and forth, getting more entrenched.

"Keep it in reverse," I said as I swung open the door.

I stepped out. It was like putting my foot into a bucket of ice water. Apparently, dressing me for the weather hadn't been one of Joey's concerns. I still wore jeans, a long-sleeved jersey and sneakers.

"Here," he said. "Switch. I'll get out and-"

"No."

There was no time for that, not with the sound of our escape attempt echoing through the forest. I tramped to the front of the car, cursing Joey under my breath, this time for his rotten choice of transportation. Selling a fancy little car like this in Alaska should be illegal. Did it even have snow tires?

I planted myself in front of the car, pushed… and felt it push back.

"Rev-!" I started to yell over the whine of the engine, before catching myself and mouthing and pantomiming "reverse."

Joey nodded frantically, reached for the gear shift and-

I smelled Travis before I saw him, and my body recognized the scent before my brain could process it. I whipped my head around to see him making his way through the trees.

"Need a hand, honey?" he called.

Another scent flitted past on a crosswind, and I wheeled as Eddie came up behind me. To my left was a distant third figure, closing in, the three surrounding me and cutting off my escape routes.

I turned to the car. Joey hadn't noticed the mutts yet. His hands still gripped the wheel, his head bobbing to tell me he had it in reverse now, so go ahead and push.

I looked at Tesler. The bubble of panic rose, then popped, evaporating as my muscles tensed, the fight-or-flight response kicking in, my brain veering wildly between the two.

Fight or flight. Fight wouldn't be easy, with my only ally as useless as a Pomeranian at a pit-bull match.

No, fighting wasn't an option. Flight was-leap onto the car, race over the top and take the only unguarded route into the forest. Run and leave Joey to his fate, hope that distracted them. And why shouldn't I? It was no less than he'd planned for me.

I put my hands on the hood, braced myself… and gave a tremendous heave. The car jumped up and out of the rut, accelerating back ward a dozen feet before Joey hit the brakes.

That's when he saw Eddie coming up behind me, and Tesler, just beyond his driver's side door. Joey waved frantically for me to get into the car, but I knew I couldn't make it, had known it when I gave that shove.

So I waved just as frantically as Joey, mouthing "Get Clay!" then spun and raced toward the one figure who hadn't yet emerged from the shadows. I heard the brothers coming after me… then the roar of Joey's car as he sped off.

CAPRICIOUS

AS I BARRELED through the trees, I saw the third werewolf ahead. The figure was as slight as a woman and no more than five foot six. The gait, though, was masculine. His head stayed down as he tramped through the snow, in no hurry to get to the clearing and see what waited there.

When he heard us, he lifted his head. I knew who he was-had known it from the moment I'd spotted his figure in the distance.

His face was young and smooth, with light brown hair hanging into dark eyes. He reached up and impatiently swiped his hair back as he squinted at me, his night vision still poor, his first Change barely behind him.

Noah Stillwell. Joey's captive son-not bound and forced forward at gunpoint, but on his own, ready to help his pack mates take down their prey.

When he realized who was running straight at him, his hands flew up awkwardly, as if he hadn't yet decided whether to stop me, attack me or fend me off.

With scarcely a falter in my stride, I grabbed the front of his jacket, yanked him off his feet and flung him to the side. I couldn't imagine either brother stopping to help the fallen boy, and they didn't, but the path was narrow and as Noah scrambled up, he got in their way, a chorus of grunts and curses echoing behind me. I hunched over, picking a path where the snow lay thinnest over the ground and running full out.

Running has always been my strong point. I'm particularly skilled at running away from things-I've been doing it my whole life, and not just metaphorically.

I've spent the last decade learning to stand firm and face my problems… or at least batter them until they're unrecognizable. So now, when I ran from the Teslers, it hurt-a mental pain so acute it was like running across a bed of nails, the spikes driving into my soles with every stride.

I told myself I wasn't running away, that this was just part of a plan that would eventually end in a standoff, a challenge and, of course, victory. The only part missing? The actual plan.

I darted through the trees, steering for the thickest part to hide my pale shirt and hair. Gradually, the sounds of pursuit faded, then stopped altogether.

I didn't kid myself. I hadn't lost them-they could easily follow my scent trail. They'd just stopped chasing me. I was miles from any populated place, running through the frozen Alaska wilderness dressed in a shirt and sneakers. They would regroup and come up with a plan to track and capture me. And I'd use this time to change into something a little warmer.

I just needed to get a little farther from them, so I could relax enough for the Change. I'd gone about twenty more feet when bobbing lights ahead had me plunging into the undergrowth. Once I was hidden, I peered out.

I could see a cluster of three distant lights, bobbing at waist level. Flashlights? A fourth joined the group, then a fifth and as I squinted, I heard the faint rumble of engines. Snowmobiles.

I remembered what Dan had said-that the Teslers had two other mutts in their group, currently in the Lower 48 setting up trade routes. Could the Teslers have recalled them when we killed Dan?