“Going to war is the way of the wolf, when a principle is involved,” Hunter said in a low rumble, sizing up the potential combatants.

The baron took a sip from his goblet. “When there is no evidence that we’ve been involved in any wrongdoing, going to war against us is both illegal and unjustified-wolf.” He then brought his goblet away from his mouth slowly and set it down on the table before him with precision. “That, like the loss of those two beautiful Phoenixes, would be a waste of resources-a terrible waste of resources.” Turning his attention away from Hunter in a cool snub, he stared at Sasha. “How did it happen?”

“We were hoping you could tell us,” Sasha said, her gaze narrowing.

“When you find out, you will advise us?” the baron asked evenly, picking up his goblet again.

Sasha pulled out her notebook and flipped to the page with the symbol on it. “This was on the bodies. What is it?”

The baron shrugged. “I haven’t a clue.”

“Know that we’re watching you,” she said, leaning down to place both hands on either side of the table.

“Fair exchange is no robbery, she-wolf,” the baron murmured. “Know that we have never stopped monitoring you.”

The hair on the back of Hunter’s neck was standing up by the time they got back into their jeep. As he pulled off, she watched him maneuver the vehicle in the wrong direction from the bed-and-breakfast.

“Where to?” she said, trying to break through his wall of fury.

“The teahouse. If Penelope worked there tonight, we should be able to pick up her fresh scent, and if a Were followed her from there home, there should still be a scent lingering there.”

Sasha leaned back against the seat and simply closed her eyes to endure the ride. The last place she wanted to be was back at Chaya. Hunter didn’t say two words while driving over to the now infamous tea salon, and he dismounted from the jeep with his gaze straight ahead. She couldn’t blame him; what had transpired here between her and Shogun was scandalous-albeit Faerie spell induced.

“Ethan said it closed at ten, so nobody will be there to question… But we could go through the gardens, and if our murderer is a Were, maybe it was lurking for her out there, stalking her,” Sasha said, keeping the conversation directed toward the investigation.

Hunter just nodded.

New Orleans heat, even at night, was kicking her ass. The humidity made her jeans and tank top cling to her like a second skin. It also didn’t help the irritability factor, which was now on full blast for some odd reason. She’d felt that way ever since she’d left Ethan McGregor’s cellar. Dealing with the baron definitely didn’t help.

“You know… thinking back on it, was it my imagination, or did Sir Rodney seem overly tense?” She stared at Hunter, waiting, watching his gaze rove past the bamboo blind.

“The man just lost a lover. His cause for tension was justified.”

Sasha let out a quiet sigh. Okay, so this was going to be a long night.

Ignoring the subtle dig, she easily propelled her body over the wrought-iron gate, needing the physical exertion. Hunter simply slipped into a shadow and came out on the other side of the barrier. Now inside with closer access to the main building, it was clear that the establishment was locked up tight. Breaking in was possible, but there’d be no way to do it without leaving evidence of intrusion; wolf scent would linger and could confuse the issues for Fae investigation.

“Pixies and Faeries to ask as possible witnesses won’t be out this late-not with angry Vampires in the area,” Sasha remarked casually, walking through the gardens. “We’ll have to come back at dawn when they normally begin collecting the dew.”

She glanced around at the level of disrepair that confronted her. Once immaculately sheared dwarf azaleas and bonsais were ragged. The giant yew trees in huge Japanese ceramic pots on the porch seemed wilted, some owning yellowed leaves. Crabgrass and dandelions were prolic, littering the layered look of the small stone walls on the lawn and taking up residence between carefully placed Himalayan boulders. It even threatened the once clean spaces near the granite Yukimi lanterns, and algae drifted lazily on the surface of the oval pond above the slow-moving giant carp, blanketing the green paddle stones.

The only flora that appeared to be holding its own were the weeping cherry trees, Japanese wisteria, and graceful roseas. Anything that needed careful cultivation was a mess. This was not the pristine garden she’d known, but she kept that sad observation to herself. Unfortunately, the economic downturn had even reached the Fae community, it seemed.

Sasha turned away and placed her hands on her hips to stare at Hunter. “I’m not getting anything.”

“Then why are we still here?” Hunter muttered without looking at her.

“Okay… we have got to get this out and dealt with once and for all,” Sasha said, now folding her arms over her chest.

“Now is not the time.” Hunter began to walk, seeking a shadow.

“Maybe not, but it’s going to be real hard working as a team to investigate a situation with you having an attitude.”

Hunter spun and stared at her. “I do not have an attitude.”

“Really? Could have fooled me.”

He didn’t respond, but simply inclined his head toward the jeep. “Let us focus on the task at hand.”

Now he was really pissing her off.

But as she began to head back to the jeep, choosing the path near the small gazebo, the fleeting scent stung her nose. Hunter stopped walking and turned. He’d obviously picked it up, too. Running toward the scent that had been downwind from them, they both stopped at the gazebo prepared to instantly shift into their wolf forms.

Yet the abandoned seating area left them disappointed.

“whatever it is was here,” Hunter muttered.

“I know… I just wish I knew what the hell it was.” Sasha turned around in a wide circle and then let out her breath in defeat.

Sasha had never been so glad to see a place to lay her head in all her life. Just walking up the front steps of what used to be Dugan’s Bed & Breakfast nearly brought tears to her eyes. She was so exhausted that every step felt like she was lifting an anvil instead of a boot. By the time they got to their room, she had to lean against the wall to simply fill Ethan in by cell phone. As soon as the call disconnected, she was so tempted to just walk across the room and flop down on the bed, but she knew Sir Rodney would be calling back any moment.

Hunter stood quietly inside the door, his expression stoic as she waited. Her phone sounded. Then it was just a matter of allowing Sir Rodney to vent about the baron trying to lure beautiful Phoenixes away from Ethan’s establishment. She was beginning to feel too tired to care, but checked her responses when she replied to the Seelie king’s rapid-fire questions.

“I’ll keep you posted as we get more intel,” she promised him, staring at Hunter. She waited until Sir Rodney disconnected the call and then closed her eyes, ready to fall asleep standing up.

A pair of warm, muscular arms enfolded her. She hadn’t even heard Hunter cross the room. His presence, the feel of him, was like a drug and she laid her head against his shoulder, finally giving in to a yawn.

“Let’s go to bed,” he murmured.

She just nodded, already drowsy enough to practically sleepwalk. It wasn’t necessary to open her eyes as she pulled off her weapon harness and handed it to Hunter, then kicked out of her boots and stripped off her jeans. What she was feeling was an unnatural kind of exhaustion, the bone weariness that she rarely felt as a wolf. She could tell it was beating Hunter down, too. It seemed like he could barely raise his arm to place her gun on the dresser. The moment they climbed into bed, he just pulled her into a spoon and seconds later was snoring in her ear. She wasn’t far behind him as a deep dark sleep consumed her.