“We won’t be an animal’s mate. Exile all shifters before it’s too late. In the name of God, we stand and yell, ‘Shifters must return to hell!’”

Her wolf’s good mood fled. Oh, fuck. Anti-shifter extremists. Not just any extremists, but the religious nut jobs—better described as people who’d been deprived of oxygen at birth and turned loco as a result. They were completely unhinged. Religion had nothing to do with why they did what they did; it was simply something they latched on to and used as justification.

Could her morning get any worse?

It couldn’t be a coincidence that they were outside a building wherein a lone shifter lived. Someone must have tipped them off to the whereabouts of a local loner. Prejudiced humans often sold the identities of loners to extremists.

She doubted the extremists knew what apartment was hers or they would have smashed her tiny windows by now—maybe even have tried to get inside. A few months ago, she’d chased off a lone shifter who had been bullying a human female outside the building. That meant that some of the human tenants knew she was a loner. If the extremists offered enough money to them, one might be persuaded to point the extremists in her direction.

One thing was for damn certain: she needed to get out of there.

She could try just walking out. If she were casual enough, they wouldn’t suspect her . . . unless they had a photograph or physical description. Crap.

The only other option was to use the fire exit. It was a small window, but she’d be able to slide through it. While there could be some extremists covering the rear of the building, it was only a matter of time before they found out which apartment she lived in, and Makenna didn’t see any other option.

She thought about calling Ryan and asking him to collect her, since she had no way of reaching her Mustang. But she couldn’t risk the extremists spotting her with him. They would take his license plate, find out what pack he was from, and then switch their attention to the Phoenix wolves. She couldn’t allow that. For the same reason, she couldn’t call Madisyn. She’d have to slip away alone and then call someone when she was a safe distance from the building.

Plan in place, Makenna pulled on a tank top, jeans, her denim jacket, and her side purse. She opened the fire exit window and slid out into a small space that was covered by a white hatch. For a moment, she didn’t move as she listened for voices or movement outside. Picking up none, she unlocked and lifted the hatch slightly. The small communal garden—if you could call a cluster of weeds a garden—was empty, which, to be honest, she found a little suspicious. Still, she didn’t have the option of sticking around.

Fully opening the hatch, Makenna quickly and quietly climbed out before closing it shut. After merely six steps, she halted. She scented them before she saw them. Several humans came out of the shadows, wearing long hooded robes. Some were holding small wooden crucifixes. Makenna sighed at the ridiculous spectacle. If her wolf could have snickered, she would have.

“Move no further, demon!” ordered one of the robed figures.

Yes, they insisted that shifters were a form of demon. Makenna didn’t see the point in correcting them. It wasn’t possible to have a rational conversation with these people. Whatever you said was hit with a quote from the bible and branded “words of the devil.” They were right, you were wrong, they were good, you were bad, they were on the righteous path, and you were on a descending elevator heading to the fires of hell.

“Child of the Devil, you shall be—!”

“Look, guys, I’ve had a really rough morning.” And now this. The basic message Makenna was getting from the universe today was: just go back to bed. She would have done just that if it weren’t for the noise these bastards were making.

“Renounce the Devil!” he shouted as they spread out and began to loosely circle her. “Confess your sins! Repent!”

“I swear I’m not jealous that God only talks to you, okay. In fact, I think it’s unfair that when a person talks to God it’s called ‘praying’ but when he talks to them it’s called ‘schizophrenia.’”

“We refuse to stand aside and allow your practices of bestiality, infanticide, violence—”

“Can I just point out the bible says something about turning the other cheek and loving thy enemies?”

“Silence, demon!” He held his hands up toward the sky. “In the name of Jesus Christ, we condemn you!”

Oh for the love of . . . well, God. Could this get more ridiculous?

Muttering prayers, they each produced little bottles and slung the contents at her.

Apparently, yes, it could.

Holy water. Fan-fucking-tastic. She wiped some of the water from her eyes with her fingers. “Okay. This has gone far enough. You need to—” She tensed as one of the humans produced a black rope net from behind his back. Worse still, the leader took a large knife from inside his robe. A chill came over her, and her heart slammed against her ribs. She’d underestimated them when she’d caught sight of the little crucifixes. It hadn’t occurred to her that they would be armed. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“Ever seen one of these knives?” asked the leader, eyes swirling with calculation, as he moved a little to her left. He was trying to take her attention off the net, she realized. She shifted slightly, angling her body in a way that allowed her to keep both threats in her peripheral vision.

“It’s pretty, don’t you think?” he continued. “It’s called a wasp knife. Have you ever heard of them?”