He fidgeted, nervous, and ducked his gaze, just for a second.

“You don’t owe him anything,” I said, pressing.

“He looks after us—”

“By using you to fight his battles?” I raised a skeptical brow. “Solomon serves Dux Bellorum. He may have told you that Dux Bellorum’s army has no opposition. That the coming war will be easy to win. But they’re wrong. Because we’re here to stop him.”

“This is a trick—”

“No. We’re just tired of werewolves killing each other. Especially for people like Solomon, Mercedes, and Jan.”

I didn’t need an answer from him. I didn’t expect him to drop everything and follow me. I just wanted him to think. Turning, I gestured to Ben and Caleb, indicating it was time to leave.

Then Solomon’s guard said, “I remember you at the convocation. You don’t fight. Is that it? That you don’t want anyone to fight?”

“Oh, I fight. When I need to. But you’re right, I’d rather avoid it.”

“Because you’re weak?’

“Because I’m lazy. Essentially.”

I’d hoped for a laugh. At least a smile. His curled lips remained in a snarl. “This is a trick.”

He backed away. Out of the corner of my vision I saw his partner paralleling him along the houses. They both retreated, without turning their backs to us.

“I think it’s time to go,” Caleb said.

We fell into step and jogged back to the car. By the time we reached it, Cormac had reappeared.

“Where were you?” I asked him conversationally, in a tone that I hope also said, told you so.

“I was there. Saw it all.”

“What, were you invisible?” Could Amelia do that, I wondered?

“How about just not noticeable.”

I decided I didn’t really want to know.

Caleb gave his lieutenant instructions, and the man went back to the shadows he’d emerged from, to guard this corner of their territory. The alpha returned to the driver’s seat.

“This is bloody useless,” Caleb said. “They’re not going to listen to you.”

“He listened,” I said, determined to believe my own words. “He didn’t start a fight, did he?”

“I don’t know,” Ben said. “I think you got to him.”

“We just have to shake things up a little,” I said. “What’s the next stop?”

“Njal,” Caleb said. “My scouts say he’s holed up in Chelsea. Can’t bear to slum it, the git.”

In my mind, this was the most important stop on the list. The two werewolves in chains at the convocation belonged to him. If I could only shake up one vampire’s household tonight, convince the werewolves to leave their Master just once, this would be it.

We drove in silence, back north into London’s interior neighborhoods.

Chapter 18

THE CONTRAST between this neighborhood and Brixton couldn’t have been more profound. Even in the misty dawn, the rows of ornate town houses and well-groomed parks seemed picture-perfect. The low, wrought-iron fences had fresh coats of paint, the façades were clean and elegant. Not a smudge of graffiti in sight.

“His guards have staked out the next block,” Caleb said. “Same routine, I take it? Walk in until we flush ’em out?”

“Wait,” I said, focused out the window to a stray shape that had moved in the morning shadows. “Let me out here.”

“What are you on about?” He slowed the car.

“I saw something. They’ve spotted us, let me out.”

“Kitty—” Ben said. The car had stopped, and I was already out.

I breathed deep and caught only a hint of werewolf. The air moved wrong, and felt wet and heavy in my nose. But they were out there. Caleb had parked, and he and Ben moved in behind me. Cormac was around, I was sure, but again stayed out of sight. They wouldn’t interfere, but they had my back. I didn’t have to worry about anything but what lay in front of me.

The street narrowed, curved, funneling into a small square, hemmed in by town houses. Even narrower lanes led away. I wasn’t quite hemmed in without escape. The lair had to be nearby.

Several werewolves were watching me from sheltered places around the square. Only watching.

“I have a message,” I called out. “Once I’ve said what I need to, I’ll leave. No trouble.” Their scents were musky, tangy with adrenaline, with fear. Some of them were in wolf form, fur bristling, panting.

“Tonight’s battle was just the start. But this isn’t about us, it’s about the vampires. They should fight their own war, don’t you think? Instead of using us. That’s my message: our fight isn’t with you. You don’t have to stay. If you leave, trouble won’t follow you. Your Master’s already picked sides, and he’s already finished. But you don’t have to go down with him.” I felt a little ridiculous, calling platitudes in an empty street, unable to gauge my audience’s reaction. Couldn’t be too long before someone called the cops, in a neighborhood like this.

Nothing happened, no one answered.

“Like I said,” I added finally. “It’s just a message. Think about it.” I turned to leave.

“Where are we supposed to go?” a man called in accented English.

The same question, and that was the problem, wasn’t it? Did they only stay because they didn’t have anywhere else to go? If I could just get all these people together …

I shrugged, wishing I could produce a magical floating island where we could all live in peace. Yeah, right. “Where do you want to go?”

“No matter where we go, we are in someone’s territory. In someone’s reach.”

Europe was crowded, in other words. “Maybe someone would let you in. If you talked to them. Made a deal. It has to be better than this.”

The speaker emerged into the light, and my breath caught. He was the male wolf, the one in chains who had lain at Njal’s feet. He was dressed now, shockingly ordinary in jeans and a sweater. But he still wore a metal-trimmed collar around his neck.

So did the lean wolf who padded beside him. The woman, his mate. She lowered her head when I saw her, hanging back, pressing herself to her bipedal companion. His hand reached down to brush her fur. He was protecting her; everything he did was to protect her.