“Again, forgive me for my ignorance.” Rupert bowed deeply, his attention split between Sir Rodney and the cowering staff. “I will be sure to extend the utmost of Fae hospitality to Ms. Trudeau and her life mate, Max Hunter-the head of the North American Clan of the Shadow Wolf Federation… along with his brother, the head of the Southeast Asian Clan of the Werewolf Federation, and any guests they bring.”

Rupert stared at his master’s back, sure that by using the titles of their guests in proper context Sir Rodney would slowly regain his composure enough to realize how imprudent it would be to start a war over a woman he could never hope to win. The Fae Parliament had sided with the Wolf Clans in their ousting of the Vampire Cartel, and the Fae, which had heretofore been fractured into feudal law, could ill afford to make war with two strong wolf packs, let alone their global Federations.

Sir Rodney straightened his spine, lifting his aristocratic chin, and then drew a deep breath as though wresting back his dignity. “I want every one of our guests who is also an important diplomatic ally to have the red carpet rolled out for them. No less than our best is all that I am striving for.” His gaze scanned the assembled staff and then landed on Rupert as he turned to face him.

Both men stared at each other for a moment and then Sir Rodney looked away as though both ashamed and confused by his own actions. Rupert let out a quiet sigh of relief and responded with a satisfied nod. Sir Rodney had clearly gotten his message-the wolves were more than guests, they were indeed critical diplomatic allies.

“Milord… a word,” Sir Rodney’s top advisor said, entering the room and putting away his wand in his robe sleeve.

Rupert remained mute, as did the rest of the staff. Seeming disoriented, Sir Rodney nodded and walked out of anyone’s earshot but his advisor’s.

“Garth…” Sir Rodney stammered, holding both sides of his skull in his palms. “What has besieged me?”

“It is the dark magick, milord,” Garth said with a frown. He extracted his wand from his sleeve, the tip of it still smoldering. “It has now begun to permeate the castle.”

Moving Shogun was agonizing to watch. As his men hoisted his body up onto the gurney in a coordinated, single move, the wail Shogun released scored her mind. The sound of his body realigning once he’d been jostled was like fingernails raking a blackboard. The hair stood up on her neck and a hard shiver passed through her that made her clench her teeth. When Shogun began begging for a bullet, Sasha closed her eyes. Merciful Jesus, she couldn’t watch this again, but she had to.

Seung Kwon and Dak-Ho handed Shogun down from the stage to Hunter and Bear Shadow. Shuddering, Shogun clawed at the padding and sheet as another hard transformation stretch pulled at his spine, cracking it as the remainder of his wolf tail receded. That’s when the man simply broke down and wept. Sasha turned away and took in a few steadying breaths. She had no way to know he’d shift, no way to know any of this would have happened to him. Guilt put tears in her eyes, tears she could ill afford at the moment.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” Hunter said, staring at her back-she could feel it.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” She didn’t even look at him as she bounded off the stage and ran ahead of the gurney to open the door.

Baron Geoff Montague opened his eyes in his lair. It was almost twilight. An evil smile graced his handsome mouth as three cool-skinned beauties slept soundly, draped over his body. Rumor and gossip always kept the airwaves interesting. So, the Fae had a problem with their glamour while the wolves were hopelessly chasing their tails looking for a murderer of Phoenixes. Très bon. Vengeance was always a dish best served ice cold.

Doc gave Sasha a look but didn’t say a word as they loaded Shogun into the back of the ambulance. She knew the questions he had-would she be okay back there alone if Shogun flipped out mid-transformation. Crow Shadow tossed her the shotgun before she closed the door. She caught it with one hand. Her eyes met Hunter’s. Doc opened the cab door and lifted out a shotgun to show Hunter that he was also armed, should there be an issue. Hunter nodded. Then she slammed the door and banged on the interior wall to let Doc know they were good to go.

She prepped the needle like a pro. How many times had she had to do this for Hunter, she wondered. Her eyes met Shogun’s and a quiet understanding passed between them. She placed her hand over his heart and briefly closed her eyes, sending Shadow Wolf healing into his body to help him relax. When he came to, she would dull the ache of torn muscles and ligaments, if he survived… but he’d been transforming for so long. Hunter had never endured something like this.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered and then plunged the needle into Shogun’s arm.

Bumps on the road bounced the vehicle and he cried out in pain.

“Kill me, Sasha,” he whispered through his teeth. “They gave you the gun-use it!”

She shook her head no and backed away to the far wall, now letting the tears she’d held back stream down her cheeks. She watched the first wave of restoration hit him as he arched and raked deep gashes in the metal interior wall. When his legs began to snap back into place she almost dry heaved. His wails became sobs that turned into an insistent plea to be shot until hard convulsions stole language from him.

He was flatlining; she knew the signs. His lips were blue; he was foaming at the mouth. His eyes had rolled backward revealing only white orbs. Working quickly, she grabbed a rubber-coated flashlight off the wall and jammed it between his jaws, and then made sure his airway was clear by pressing his tongue forward with her fingers before she paddled him.

The electric jolt lifted him off the gurney by a quarter inch and his instant reaction was to clamp his jaws down hard on the flashlight, severing it in half. Oh, yeah, he was back-and apparently very pissed off. One long agonized wail bore witness to his full transformation back. It happened in an instant, like a rubber band snap. Maybe it was the antitoxin mixed with the spell, but he was definitely way stronger than he should have been coming out of a hard shape-shift.

He spit out broken metal, rubber, and severed batteries, and leaped up to a crouching position in his human form. Shogun angrily wiped his face and mouth on the sheet and then flung it down on the floor.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Sasha?” he growled, eyes glowing pure golden outrage.

“It was the only way,” she said as calmly as possible. “If I didn’t give you the meds and the jolt, you would have died.”

He stood slowly, coming off the gurney nude and snarling. “That is so not what I’m talking about.”

She eyed the shotgun; so did he.

“So now that I’m all better you would add insult to injury by shooting me after the fact-instead of when I needed you to?”

“No,” she said, without apology in her tone, “but you are coming very close to invading my personal space, now back up!”

“Invading your personal space…” He shook his head, making the wild thicket of onyx hair sway from side to side. “Is that why you ran into the shadows where you knew I couldn’t follow!”

“I went in there to avoid a war.” She stared at him without blinking, truly understanding how affected he was by the dark spell. A hundred realities split her skull in an instant. She’d had time to get her mind together by going in and out of the shadows; Shogun had been in Ethan’s bar, just like his men had, for hours.

“You went in there with him!”

Sasha kept her voice neutral. “I went in there alone. He followed me.”

“And he was gone with you for hours… while you were in phase!” Shogun slammed his fist into the metal wall, denting it next to her head. “Do you think that I’m stupid?”