As soon as the front of the house became visible, Dougal teleported to the guards, and they slumped onto the ground.

"Whoa," Jimmy whispered. "What was that?"

"Some kind of vampire voodoo?" Jesse asked.

"Mind control," Howard answered. "The guards will have no memory of this. You guys watch the front. I'll be back soon."

He jogged toward the double front doors and entered the sprawling stone-and-log house. A quick glance back reassured him that Phil had the situation under control. Thank God he and Dougal had come. His cousins were enthusiastic and well-intentioned, but they were totally inexperienced in this kind of work.

It took less than a minute for him and Dougal to locate Rhett's home office. Howard retrieved a sixty-four-gig flash drive from his pocket and plugged it into the USB port on Rhett's computer.

Dougal stood guard at the office door. "I doona hear any other heartbeats. The house is empty." He approached slowly. "What are ye doing?"

"Downloading. Bank accounts, passwords, you name it. I designed this program to be super quick. It should take less than four minutes."

"Impressive."

Howard nodded, watching the monitor. "I didn't just play football in college. I majored in computer science."

"Och, I dinna know that."

Howard slanted an amused look at the vampire. "How do you think all the computers at MacKay S and I and Romatech manage to stay secure? That's what I do during the day while you guys are sleeping." He grinned. "And you thought I was just eating donuts."

Dougal chuckled. "Aye." He looked around the room, then, with a wince, he motioned toward the stone fireplace. "No' someone ye know, I hope."

Howard's eyes narrowed on the white bearskin rug resting on top of the polished hardwood floor. A polar bear. He gritted his teeth.

" 'Tis no' a were-bear, right?" Dougal asked. "I thought shifters turn back to human form when they die."

"That's right." Howard sighed. "I wish we could take the bear with us, but we have to leave everything exactly as it is."

"Ye doona want to rob this house and destroy it like ye did the others? We could set it on fire."

"An old friend of mine named Smoky told me to never start a forest fire."

Dougal snorted. "This is all fun and games to you."

Howard shook his head. "When it comes to strategy, I'm dead serious. We have to get in and out of here without anyone knowing. We would be vastly outnumbered if they caught us. And we have to keep everything the same, because if Rhett suspected we were here, he would change his passwords and secure his accounts." He leaned over to check the progress of his software. Almost done.

"Is it worth it?" Dougal asked. "Playing yer game of revenge when ye canna let him know ye're the one toying with him?"

Howard straightened slowly. "I don't have a choice. I have to protect my family and friends."

Dougal stepped closer. "But if ye had a choice - "

"I don't." Howard removed the flash drive. "We're done here. Let's go."

Dougal followed him. "If ye had a choice, would ye play the game differently?"

"There would be no game." Howard glanced back. "I'd kill him."

Chapter Four

The following afternoon, Howard and his team arrived at his grandfather's house on Paw Island. His cousins were sent home, two houses down the street, so their parents would know the boys were all right. A quick check in the basement assured him that Dougal had safely teleported back the night before and was now in his death-sleep.

Phil settled in the small family room with Howard's grandfather, Walter, and they found a baseball game to watch on TV. Howard greeted his mother, who was busy in the kitchen, then hurried down the narrow hallway to his old bedroom.

While his laptop booted up, he looked around. The twin bed still sported an NFL comforter in red, white, and blue, and the small window had matching curtains, although faded to the point that the names of football teams were barely legible. His old trophies were still lined up on the dresser.

He sighed, remembering how much his mother had cried when he'd left for college. He'd kept in touch with her over the years, and she'd always pretended like he was coming home to visit soon. He hadn't reminded her that he could never return. He knew if he mentioned his banishment, she would burst into tears.

He dragged a hand through his hair. His mother had suffered too much because of him. She acted like everything was rosy now that he was home, but when he gazed around his old room, he cringed at the thought of his mother keeping it exactly the same for twenty years. The poor woman had lost her husband, and then years later, when Howard was eighteen, she'd lost him, too.

After he'd tossed Rhett Bleddyn off the cliff, Rhett's father had threatened to annihilate the were-bear community if Howard wasn't punished, so the Council of Elders, which included his grandfather, had banished him for life. But Howard no longer felt obligated to honor the old decree, not when he obviously hadn't managed to kill Rhett. Rhett's father had passed away a year ago, and Rhett had emerged from hiding to become the new Pack Master. As far as Howard was concerned, he could now go home whenever he wanted. And he'd make sure that Rhett finally paid for his crimes.

He sat at his small desk where he used to do homework and downloaded the flash drive onto his laptop. He'd managed to steal a ton of information. Bank accounts, financial records, files on all of Rhett's minions. Just as Howard suspected, Rhett wielded a huge amount of political power. One Alaskan senator and several congressmen were actually werewolves who had sworn allegiance to the Bleddyn family. Rhett also controlled numerous Lycan politicians at the state and local levels.

Rhett's financial records revealed a tangled web of businesses and organizations from all over the world. His net worth was easily over two hundred million, with bank accounts not just in Alaska but in Canada, New York, Switzerland, Hong Kong, Australia, and Singapore, as well. The tangled design appeared purposeful, so that money could be shifted around, even hidden, and it would be difficult for Rhett's business partners and shareholders to know what he was up to.

No doubt, if Howard had broken into one of Rhett's numerous business offices in Alaska, the records for that business would appear clean. But he'd hacked into Rhett's personal computer, hoping it would pay off. And it did. After an hour of digging around, he discovered Rhett's dirty little secret.

Rhett had a hidden bank account in the Cayman Islands under the name of a bogus business. And there, he had been paying himself a salary of five million a year. The account now had fifty million in it, so he'd been embezzling from his other businesses for ten years.

Fifty million. Howard smiled. If he spent some money from the secret account, what could Rhett do? A police investigation would reveal the company as bogus, and he'd be in big trouble. Hoisted by his own petard.

"Thanks for the play money, Rhett."

Howard compiled a list of all candidates who were running against Rhett's political puppets, and then, using an untraceable Internet card, he made hefty donations to their campaigns. He chuckled, imagining how Rhett's puppets would react when they discovered their master was suddenly supporting their opponents.

His friend Harry had been investigating Rhett's activities, and he'd learned that the bastard had been harassing small towns that were in debt, trying to buy them out so he could turn them into exclusive werewolf communities. The mortals would be given a cruel choice: leave their land or be forced to become werewolves. Howard donated ten million to the towns so they could fight back.

"What else?" he murmured to himself as he tapped his fingers on the desk. A vision of the polar bear rug drifted into his mind and he smiled.

"That's going to be one expensive rug, Rhett." He donated five million dollars to a polar bear conservation program.

When he was done, he'd spent over half the money in the secret account. Howard sat back, staring at the computer screen. He needed to muddy the water, make it difficult to trace his movements.

"How about a shell game, Rhett?" For the next thirty minutes, he transferred chunks of money from one account to another, from one country to another. Before it had been a tangled web, but now it was a multiple train wreck. It would take Rhett months to figure out what the hell had happened.

To finish up, Howard e-mailed some incriminating evidence to Harry so the reporter could leak the news to the Northern Lights Sound Bites over the next few days. Harry was a talented enough journalist that he could write for a more prestigious paper, but he enjoyed writing for a tabloid, where he had the freedom to poke fun at Rhett and his minions without fear of being sued or reported for violation of journalistic ethics. No one questioned his claim that werewolves were real, not when his articles were in the same paper with stories about Bigfoot and alien abductions.

Smiling to himself, Howard sauntered into the family room. His grandfather, Walter, was resting in his worn-out recliner, half asleep but with the remote control still clutched in his hand, while Phil sprawled on the nearby couch. An ice chest filled with bottles of beer rested on the floor beside them.

Phil sat up. "Are you done?"

Howard nodded. "I just spent thirty-five million dollars."

"What?" Walter blinked awake and yanked his recliner into a sitting position. "Where the hell did you get that much money?"

"It was a gift from Rhett Bleddyn."

Walter snorted and turned off the television. "The only gift he'd give you is a bullet between the eyes."

Howard's smile widened. "The feeling is mutual."

"You spent thirty-five million of Rhett's money?" Phil asked.

Howard nodded and explained the details.

Phil laughed. "I'd like to see how his political puppets react. It's going to be a bloody dog fight."

Walter's mouth twitched, but he aimed a glare at Howard. "You shouldn't be stealing, boy. I taught you better than that."

Boy? Howard groaned inwardly. His grandfather and mom acted like he was still eighteen and had been away only twenty days instead of twenty years. But since a were-bear could easily live for five hundred years, twenty years might not seem that long to his elders. "I only used the money that Rhett had stolen. He started it. Besides, I want to make him suffer."

Walter nodded with a resigned look. "I can't blame you for that. The bastard deserves to suffer."

Phil leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. "So Rhett killed your girlfriend?"

"It was a long time ago," Howard replied quickly to stop Phil's fishing for more information. "Hand me one of those beers. We should be celebrating. Two of Rhett's houses have been destroyed, and now we've done serious damage to his finances and political power."

"Congratulations." Phil passed him a cold bottle. "What's your next move?"

Howard twisted off the top. "Rhett's planning to run for governor, so we'll ruin his reputation." He took a sip. "It won't be that hard, actually. We'll just tell the truth about his shady financial deals. I e-mailed the proof to Harry, so he can leak it anonymously to the newspaper."

With a sigh, Walter opened another bottle of beer. "This is a dangerous game you're playing."

"We're covering our tracks," Howard assured him. "Rhett won't be able to prove that we've done anything."

"He doesn't need proof, son. His family has always been ruthless. They hurt innocent people all the time."

Howard's heart stilled in his chest for a few seconds. Had he made an error in his strategy? He'd assumed Rhett would react logically, searching for proof before he retaliated. But what if he flew into a rage and attacked the were-bear community? "Rhett has so many enemies. I thought you would be safe as long as he had no proof."

Walter regarded him sadly. "All he has to do is think about who hates him the most, and he'll know it was you."

Howard closed his eyes briefly. Damn. He'd let his hunger for revenge consume him to the point that he'd blindly assumed he could protect his people.

"You think Rhett will attack these islands?" Phil asked.

"It's possible." Howard slumped into the easy chair next to his grandfather. "I'm sorry, Grandpa."

Walter shrugged. "I thought about stopping you, but I'm tired of catering to those bastards." He drank some beer. "What the hell, Rhett can come here if he wants. I've got a shotgun with his name on it."

Howard frowned. "They outnumber us."

"Let them try something," Walter growled. "We're on a damned island. If they try to land a boat here, we'll blast them out of the water."

Howard nodded. "You're in a good defensive position. Post guards around the island, and make sure no one lands without your approval." He groaned, thinking about all the innocent were-bears in the community. "I shouldn't have done this."

Walter grunted and drank more beer. "We should have done this twenty years ago when Rhett's father threatened to annihilate us."

"What exactly happened twenty years ago?" Phil asked.

"Nothing," Howard said quickly.

"Nothing? We thought you'd killed Rhett." Walter turned to Phil. "The only way I could stop Rhett's father from attacking us was to banish my own grandson." He shook his head, frowning. "I shouldn't have agreed to it. It wasn't fair to you."

"You did the right thing." Howard patted his grandfather's arm. "You had the whole community here to protect. You couldn't put them at risk because of something I had done."