Charles.

He’d been groggy when she left, but had seemed happy enough to leave her in his father’s hands while he slept off the effects of having a few silver bullets dug out of him last night. Apparently things had changed.

Anna grabbed her box and met Bran in the doorway of the bathroom.

He gave her a searching glance, but didn’t seem upset. “It seems that we are needed elsewhere,” he said, sounding calm and relaxed. “I don’t think he’ll hurt anyone-but silver has a stronger and more unpredictable effect on him than on some wolves. Do you have what you need?”

“Yes.”

Bran looked around, then his eyes fell on Boyd. “Tell your wolf we’ll be there as soon as possible. I trust you to make certain that everything is packed and the apartment is clean when you leave.”

Boyd bowed his head submissively.

Bran took her box and tucked it under one arm and then held his other out in an old-fashioned gesture. She put her fingers lightly on the crook of his arm, and he escorted her all the way back to the SUV that way, slowing her down when she would have run.

He drove back to the Naperville mansion that the Western Suburb pack kept for its own without breaking any traffic laws, but he didn’t waste any time, either.

“Most wolves wouldn’t be able to break out of a holding room,” he said mildly. “There’s silver in the bars, and there are a lot of bars, but Charles is his mother’s son, too. She’d never have allowed herself to be held by anything as mundane as a few bars and a reinforced door.”

Somehow, it didn’t surprise Anna that Bran would know how the pack’s safe room was built.

“Charles’s mother was a witch?” Anna had never met a witch, but she’d heard stories. And since becoming a werewolf, she’d learned to believe in magic.

He shook his head. “Nothing so well defined. I’m not even sure she worked magic-strictly speaking. The Salish didn’t see the world that way: magic and not magic. Natural and unnatural. Whatever she was, though, her son is, too.”

“What will happen if he breaks out?”

“It would be good if we get there before that happens,” was all he said.

They left the expressway, and he slowed to the posted speed limit. The only sign of his impatience was the rhythmic beat of his fingers on the steering wheel. When he pulled up in front of the mansion, she jumped out of the SUV and ran to the front door. He didn’t appear to hurry, but somehow he was there before her and opened the door.

She ran down the hall and took the cellar stairs three at a time, Bran at her shoulder. The lack of noise was not reassuring.

Usually the only way to tell the safe room from the basement guest rooms was the steel door and frame. But great plaster chunks had been torn off the wall on either side, revealing the silver-and-steel bars that had been embedded in the wall. The wallpaper from inside the room hung down in strips like a curtain, keeping Anna from seeing inside.

There were three of the pack in human form standing in front of the door, and she could feel their fear. They knew what they had in that room-at least one of them had watched as he killed Leo, even though Charles had been shot twice with silver bullets.

“Charles,” said Bran in a chiding tone.

The wolf roared in response, a hoarse howling sound that hurt Anna’s ears and contained nothing but blind rage.

“The screws were coming out of the hinges, sir. On their own,” said one of the wolves nervously, and Anna realized the thing he was holding in his hands was a screwdriver.

“Yes,” Bran said calmly. “I imagine they were. My son doesn’t react at all well to silver and even less well to captivity. You might have been safer letting him out-or not. My apologies for leaving you here alone to face him. I thought he was in better shape. It seems I underestimated Anna’s influence.”

He turned and held out his hand to Anna, who had stopped at the base of the stairs. She wasn’t bothered nearly as much by the raging wolf as she was by the men who stood in the basement. The walls of the hallway were too narrow, and she didn’t like having so many of them close to her.

“Come here, Anna,” said Bran. Though his voice was soft, it was a command.

She brushed past the other wolves, looking at feet rather than faces. When Bran took her elbow, Charles growled savagely-though how he had seen it through the hanging wallpaper was beyond Anna.

Bran smiled and removed his hand. “Fine. But you’re scaring her.”

Instantly, the growls softened.

“Talk to him a little,” Bran told her. “I’ll take the others upstairs for a bit. When you’re comfortable, go ahead and open the door-but it might be a good idea to wait until he quits growling.”

And they left her alone. She must have been crazy because she immediately felt safer than she had all day. The relief of being without fear was almost heady. The wallpaper fluttered as Charles paced behind the barrier, and she caught a glimpse of his red fur.

“What happened to you?” she asked him. “You were fine when we left this morning.”

In wolf form, he couldn’t reply, but he did stop growling.

“I’m sorry,” she ventured. “But they’re packing up my apartment, and I had to be there. And I needed to get clothes to wear until the trailer makes it to Montana.”

He hit the door. Not hard enough to do damage, but in clear demand.

She hesitated, but he’d quit growling. With a mental shrug she threw the bolt and opened the door. He was bigger than she remembered-or maybe it was just that he looked that way when his fangs were so prominently displayed. Blood oozed out of the hole in his left hind leg and trickled down to his paw. The two holes in his ribs were trickling a little faster.

Behind him, the room, which had been pretty nicely furnished when she left, was in shambles. He’d pulled large chunks of plaster off all four of the walls as well as the ceiling. Shreds of the mattress carpeted the room, intermingled with pieces of the chest of drawers.

She whistled at the damage. “Holy cow.”

He limped up to her and sniffed her carefully all over. A stair creaked, and he whirled with a growl, putting himself between her and the intruder.

Bran sat on the top stair. “I’m not going to hurt her,” he commented. Then he looked at Anna. “I don’t know how much he’s actually understanding right now. But I think he’ll do better in his own home. I called our pilot, and he’s ready to fly out.”

“I thought we’d have a couple of days yet.” She felt her stomach clinch. Chicago was her home. “I have to call Scorci’s and tell Mick I’m leaving, so he can find another waitress. And I haven’t had a chance to talk to my neighbor and tell her what’s going on.” Kara would worry.

“I have to get back to Montana today,” Bran said. “Tomorrow morning we’re holding a funeral for a friend of mine who just died. I was going to leave you here to follow me later, but I don’t think it’s a good idea now.” Bran nodded at Charles. “He’s obviously not healing as well as I thought. I need to get him home and have him checked out. I have a cell phone. Can you call your neighbor and your Mick and explain things to them?”

She looked down at the wolf who’d put himself between her and his father to keep her from harm. It wasn’t the first time he’d done something like that.

Besides, what was her alternative? Stay in the Chicago pack? Boyd might be a vast improvement over Leo, but…she had no desire to stay with them.

She put her hand on Charles’s back and feathered her hand through his fur. She didn’t have to reach down to do it, either-Charles was a big werewolf. He altered his stance until he pressed against her though he never took his eyes off of Bran.

“Okay,” she said. “Give me your phone.”

Bran smiled and held it out. Charles didn’t move from between them, forcing Anna to stretch out and grab it while Charles stared coldly at his father. His attitude made her laugh-which made it much easier to convince Kara that Anna was going to Montana because she wanted to.