“They’re still out there,” Tina said. “You think they’re still after us?”

“Of course they are,” Grant muttered, harsh with pain.

“But they have to sleep, too,” Jeffrey said. “Maybe they’ll leave us alone for a while.”

Maybe they would. Maybe we’d have a few hours’ respite. “I’ll take the first watch,” I said.

“No,” Jeffrey said. “Tina’s right, you’re half asleep already.”

“I’m fine.”

He touched my shoulder and guided me to the second sofa, and I was too tired to shrug him off.

I woke up not knowing how I managed to fall asleep at all, but exhaustion had caught up with me. But I didn’t exactly feel refreshed. I still felt hunted, all my muscles tied in knots, my hackles permanently taut. When I looked around the living room, it was with suspicion, searching for the thing that was wrong. Looking to see who was missing now.

Grant was asleep on a bed of blankets on the floor by the fireplace. His injured hands wrapped with gauze bandages lay on his chest. Tina was slumped in a chair, also asleep. Jeffrey sat in a chair near the window, out of sight from the outside, where another beautiful sunny day in the mountains shone through.

Conrad, sitting up, his injured leg stretched out on the other sofa, was awake and looking at me. He actually seemed a little better—more relaxed, not so pale. His leg had been washed and bound with gauze and tape. Blood still seeped through the bandages. He really needed a hospital. That goal seemed a tiny bit out of our reach at the moment.

“Hi,” I said, slowly drawing myself into the moment.

“Hi,” he answered.

“What’s been happening? What have I missed?”

“I don’t know. I’ve been kind of out of it. The others have been taking turns keeping watch.”

“How are you doing?” I asked.

He smiled wryly and shook his head. “It’s gone numb.”

That couldn’t be a good sign. “We’ll get out of this. Everything’ll turn out.”

That sounded lame, didn’t it? I glanced away in apology.

His voice was soft but steady now. As long as he didn’t move, the pain seemed manageable. “You’re married, right?”

“Yeah.” The reminder of Ben sent an ache through my heart. I couldn’t think about him right now—just think about getting through the next few hours.

“You have kids?” he said.

“No.”

“You want kids? Are you and your husband trying for them?”

My smile got tighter as the old wound twinged in my gut. “It’s not a matter of what I want. Lycanthropes can’t carry a baby to term. Shape-shifting causes a miscarriage.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah. Life’s a bitch.”

“I didn’t think I wanted them. My wife—Trish—talked me into it. I could never say no to her. But when Toby came along—God, I didn’t think I’d feel that way. It’s like the whole world shifted so everything centered on him. This amazing little thing. Toby, then Hannah…”

He wiped his nose on his shirt. That whole life-flashing-before-your-eyes thing? Maybe it happened sometimes, but I had a feeling that just three faces were flashing before Conrad’s eyes.

“We’re going to get out of this,” I said weakly. “You’ll see them again.”

He gave a painful chuckle. “Yeah. Sure. Okay.” Unconvinced.

“Get some rest,” I said. “In case we have to go running again.”

“I want to be awake. When the next thing happens, I don’t want to be asleep.”

Yeah. I got that.

“Jeffrey?” Conrad craned his neck, looking for the psychic, wincing as he jostled his leg.

Jeffrey came over. He didn’t look any better than the rest of us. A beard had started growing, his hair was shaggy and uncombed, and his face was pale. Jeffrey was one of the most upbeat people I knew. I’d never seen him so grim. He didn’t even speak, just waited for Conrad to continue.

“Jeffrey,” he said, full of emotion. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t believe. I want—can I talk to Natalie? I want to talk to her. Can you help me?”

Jeffrey smiled, though sadly. “Just talk to her, Conrad. She’ll hear. She’s always heard you.”

“And my kids. If anything happens to me, I’ll still be able to see them, I can talk to them—will you help me talk to them? I just want them to know—”

“Don’t think about it,” Jeffrey said. “It’s not worth thinking about.” He went back to the window, staying at the edge, sneaking careful looks out. He was tense, arms crossed, jaw set. I wanted to hug him. Like that would help.

Conrad settled back on the sofa, staring miserably into space.

I went to find something to eat. Drank a cup of flat soda and a slice of bread and peanut butter that went down like sawdust.

“Tina, Grant, Kitty—” Jeffrey called. The others woke and sat up instantly; they may not have slept at all. “I saw something. They’re out there—one of them is, at least. In the trees there.”

“What do you see?” Grant said. He didn’t act injured at all, except that he kept his hands cradled in front of him, sheltered.

“I think it’s Provost.”

I thought for a minute. “You think we can catch him?”

Grant said, “Where’s the rifle?”

“We lost it with Lee,” I said, thinking I probably should have picked it up. I consoled myself by believing it had been damaged in the explosion. “Who has the handgun?”

Looking around, I found it on the kitchen counter. I grabbed it, checked the ammunition. Still full.

“Can you use it?” Tina said.

“I’d have to get out in the open—he’d get me before I got him,” I said.

Jeffrey said, “So that’s it? We’re talking about killing him?”

I said, “I think we’re firmly in them-or-us territory. As nice as it would be to see them convicted of murder, they’re not going to sit still for that.”

Jeffrey looked at Grant. When the psychic spoke, he sounded unhappy. Maybe he dealt with enough death that he didn’t want to go around causing it. “You have a spell for this? Maybe some of the hypnotism?”