Simon looked past Derek and mouthed. “Radio?” then pointed toward the voices, asking if it was one of theirs.

I nodded.

“Sweet,” he mouthed, then shot me a thumbs-up that made me blush. Derek glanced over with a nod and a grunt that I interpreted to mean, Good job…as long as you didn’t do anything stupid to get it.

“I found Alpha one,” a man’s voice said, so low I had to strain to hear him.

Simon motioned for Derek to turn up the volume, but Derek shook his head. He could hear fine so there was no need to risk it.

“Where is he?” a woman’s voice answered over the radio.

“Knocked out. Looks like he went a couple of rounds with our young werewolf.”

“Get him to safety. Delta team still has the Enright girl, right?”

I shot a look at Derek, but his expression didn’t change as he concentrated on listening.

“Delta two does. I’m not sure how well she’ll work as bait, so I sent Delta one to get Carson from the truck.”

That got Derek’s attention. Simon mouthed “Andrew” to me. The voices retreated, but a moment later, the woman’s came again over the radio, calling Delta two. A man answered.

“Have you got Carson?” she asked.

“I’m almost there.”

“Good. Your job is to persuade him to call those kids. He’s going to lure them in.”

“He won’t.”

“I don’t expect him to volunteer,” the woman snapped, “but considering he’s in our custody, he’ll do what we say. If he refuses, shoot him.”

Simon’s head shot up, his eyes dark with worry. Derek motioned for him to be quiet as we listened.

Delta two came back on. “Um, did someone move the truck?”

“What?”

“The truck. With Carson. It’s…not here.”

The argument that followed was loud enough that Derek put his hands over the radio speaker, muffling it more. They spent the next few minutes making sure Delta two had the right spot and that no one else had moved Andrew and the truck. But there was no such simple explanation—their hostage was gone…with their truck.

“So Andrew’s safe. What about Tori?” I asked when the radio went silent.

For a moment Derek said nothing, which was better than what I expected—a snapped What about her? As quick as he’d been the other day to say that he didn’t care if Tori walked in front of a speeding car, it wasn’t so easy to actually stand by, knowing she was in mortal danger.

“I’ll do a sweep,” he said. “If I find her, great.”

He didn’t say the rest, but I understood. If I don’t find her, we have to leave her behind. As bad as that sounded, it was the right thing to do. I didn’t want Derek putting himself in a bullet’s path for Tori. That was an awful thing to admit. I didn’t hate Tori—I didn’t even really dislike her anymore. But when it came down to the cold, hard choice of putting a life on the line to save hers, I couldn’t do it. Not Derek’s, not Simon’s, not mine. And that choice was going to haunt me for a very long time.

“Be careful and…” The other words that rose to my lips were “be quick,” but I couldn’t be that callous—even to think it shocked me. So I swallowed and repeated, “Be careful.”

Derek wasn’t leaving, though. We were. He made us set out first, so he could stand watch. When we were safely on our way to the back road, he’d go after Tori.

We made it about twenty paces before a figure appeared in our path. Simon’s fingers flew up.

“Simon, it’s—” the man said, ending in an oomph as the spell hit and he fell backward to the ground.

“Andrew!” Simon rushed forward.

The man rose, giving a wry smile as he brushed himself off. “I see your knock-back spell has improved.”

Andrew wasn’t much taller than Simon, but he was squarely built, sturdy, with a broad face and crooked nose. His crew-cut hair was gray, though he wouldn’t be any older than my dad, and looked like a retired prizefighter. Not what I expected from that cozy, tidy little house.

When he looked at me, his smile faltered, the wrinkle between his brows deepening, like I looked familiar, but he was having trouble placing my face. He started to say something. Then he glanced up sharply.

“Someone’s coming,” Andrew said.

Simon glanced at the approaching shadow, big but moving silently. “It’s Derek.”

“No, that’s not—” Andrew began.

Derek stepped into the light of the clearing. Andrew looked up at him and blinked. He stared at Derek, like he was trying—and failing—to find the boy he knew.

Behind the surprise in his eyes, there was something sharper, a note of worry, maybe even fear, like in that moment, he saw not his friend’s son, but a big, powerful young werewolf. He blinked the fear back, but not before Derek saw it, his gaze shunting to the side, shoulders and jaw tensing, as if to say that was okay, he didn’t care. But I knew he did.

“You’ve…grown.”

Andrew tried for a smile but couldn’t quite find it, and that, for Derek, seemed worse than the fear. He looked away completely, muttering, “Yeah.”

Simon waved at me. “This is—”

“Let me guess. Diane Enright’s girl.”

I shook my head. “Chloe Saunders.”

“It’s the hair,” Simon said. “She’s blond, but we had to dye it because—”

“Later,” Derek said, then looked at Andrew. “They have the Enright girl. Victoria.”

Andrew frowned. “Are you sure?”

Simon took the radio from me and waved it. “Chloe got this from them. We heard about you escaping and them catching Tori.”

“I’ll go get her then. You three, get to the truck.” He told us where to find it, then started to leave.

“I’m coming with you,” Derek said. “I can find her faster than you can.”

Andrew seemed ready to argue, but one look at Derek told him it was useless, so he took the radio from me and sent us to safety.

WE FOUND THE TRUCK—an old SUV—hidden behind a neighboring barn. The door was open. A piece of metal had been jammed into the ignition to hotwire it. Simon was checking that out, trying to see if he could start it up, when three people ran from the woods: Derek, Andrew, and Tori.

Simon and I flung open the front doors and climbed into the back. Derek took the passenger seat. Tori sat on my other side in the rear.

“That was a quick rescue,” Simon said as Andrew started the truck.

“No rescue required,” Tori said. “I can take care of myself.”

Derek muttered something about remembering that the next time he risked his life to help her.

As Andrew got the truck moving, I asked Tori what happened. She’d been taken captive and held under guard as the others searched. At first, she’d had two guards, but when things started going wrong they’d left her with only a single guard.

“One handy binding spell later? They lost their only remaining prisoner.”

“You think they’d have taken your spells into account,” Derek said.

“Well, they underestimated me,” she said.

Derek grunted. Simon started asking something, but Andrew shushed us while he drove the truck over a rough field. He kept the lights off and rolled along slowly.

Simon shifted beside me, getting comfortable in the cramped backseat. His hand brushed my leg, then found my hand and took it. When he smiled over at me, I smiled back.

I expected him to give his usual reassuring squeeze and let go. Instead he seemed to take my smile as a sign of encouragement and entwined his fingers with mine and rested them on my thigh. As tired as I was—my brain reeling with questions, adrenaline still pumping—a little buzz passed through me. Silly, I guess. Making a big deal out of holding hands? So fifth grade.

I was sure, for Simon, it was no big deal. While he wasn’t the first guy to hold my hand, let’s just say my experience with boys didn’t go further than that.

The buzz passed quickly, though, as we reached the road and Andrew turned on the headlights. He asked if we were all okay, and the first thing out of my mouth was, “Was my Aunt Lauren with you?”