He pulled back. “This time I’m watching you drive away.”

She didn’t argue. The man was in a lot of pain, yet still thinking of her first. The least she could do was let him win on the terms of her departure. Because she was leaving. Was going to walk away from him. At least for tonight.

As they crossed the street, Tess felt him perk up before he fully withdrew his body from hers. “Something wrong?” she asked, noting he’d risen to his full stature, but his lips were set in a firm line. She’d wager it took everything he had to stand up straight.

“Dane’s nearby.” He picked up the pace for the first time since leaving the warehouse, ushering her more quickly to the parking lot.

“Where?” She looked around, but only saw a few people ambling out of the restaurant, their voices loud enough for her to catch several four-letter words. She recognized one of them—the guy who’d so eloquently tried to buy her a drink. She steered Hugh away from confrontation.

They crossed the parking lot and small side street, and reached her car without incident. She punched in the code on the driver’s door keypad and the car unlocked. Decisions—stay, go, help, don’t help—bounced around her head as she contemplated her next move.

“I think I should wait with you until Dane shows up,” she said.

Hugh slouched against the car, his chin practically in his neck. To passersby, he’d look like he’d had one too many drinks. She wished that were the case. That he’d recover from.

“Not necessary.” He pushed off from the car, but immediately fell back.

“Tough shit. I’m staying.” She leaned against the car door. “Can’t you like howl to him or something?”

“Not necessary,” he repeated.

They stood in silence for one minute. Then two.

Tess hated feeling helpless. She hated not knowing what to do. Her insides churned, making her stomach clench. A sharp pain on the right side of her head came and went like clockwork every thirty seconds. Perspiration trickled down her sides. The last time she’d felt this anxious was when Jason lay in her arms. Dying. There’d been nothing she could do about it. She’d gotten to him too late.

As much as Hugh dropping dead beside her would solve her business responsibilities, she didn’t want him dying like this. Or maybe she did. No. No, she didn’t. But it was for reasons completely inappropriate, completely unsettling.

Her thoughts of Jason, and comparing the situations threw her for a loop. Yes, she had some sort of connection with Hugh, but death was part of her job, so why did it bother her so much this time? She needed to remember he was her assignment and nothing more.

Get in the car, Tess. Drive away and don’t look back.

Or stay in the agonizing quiet. She always got uncomfortable hanging out with someone in silence, but hell if she knew the right thing to say. She should start her investigation of him this instant with questions about his job, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. He looked too vulnerable.

Too human.

Diverting her attention to a spot of oil on the street seemed like her best bet at the moment. She stared without blinking until her eyes protested. Then she looked across the street to find Dane heading toward them.

“Hey,” Dane called, crossing with long strides and looking like he’d been in the bar all night, not out prowling the streets in search of a friend.

Hugh lifted his head and stood taller. Maybe he’d just needed a few minutes to rest. He looked glad to see Dane, but Tess could swear she saw a hint of anger there too.

“Dane.”

The one word acknowledgement spoke volumes. Hugh didn’t ask how he was, he didn’t ask about Trey. Instead he waited for Dane to fill him in without prodding. “Dane” had been a command, not a greeting.

“What the hell happened?” Dane asked, looking Hugh up and down before turning an eye on her.

She glared at him, more for Hugh’s sake than her own. Was he allowed to talk to Hugh that way? “We were attacked by a Banoth,” she said. She wanted to add “you jackass,” but held her tongue.

“A Banoth? Jesus.” Dane’s chest deflated some, his shoulders rounded. “Did it get its fangs in you?” he asked Hugh, concern in his voice.

“Yeah.”

“Are you carrying?”

Carrying? What was he talking about?

“No. So talk.” Hugh pushed himself up so his shoulders rose above the car’s roofline. His face was hard to read under the dim streetlight, but beads of sweat dotted his forehead. Tess swept a gaze over him from top to bottom and noticed a dark bloodstain on the leg of his jeans.

Dane nodded in her direction. “Right now?”

“She’s clued in,” Hugh said, “and I trust her.”

Why the hell did he have to go and say that? She was not to be trusted. Not to be included in their pack activities. Not to know what he wasn’t carrying, even though she was dying to get that bit of information. Then again, she couldn’t have asked for a better cover, an easier way into Hugh’s life. He knew she was a private investigator. She could use that to her advantage to help him find Trey. She’d pretend friendship to help him and get the information she needed to do her job. She’d just keep P.I.E. out of the picture.

Friendship. Yeah, right.

She smiled at Dane. A great big smile to let him know she was sticking around, and he’d better get used to it. Something about Dane unsettled her. He didn’t like her involvement, she knew that from their confrontation in the alley, but there was more. Something she couldn’t put her finger on.

“The tip on Trey was bogus. I got to the location and he wasn’t there.”

“I’m not surprised,” Hugh said. “This whole thing was a setup to—”

“Get Hugh,” Tess finished. “And probably you too, Dane. Did you meet with any trouble? See anything that might give you some clue as to who or what planned this little attack?”

Dane looked like he was about to fall over. Maybe he’d never heard someone finish Hugh’s sentence before and then go on to ask the questions. A happy buzz wove through her body that she couldn’t blame on the beers from two hours ago. She’d come to the rescue of the lone wolfen and the idea that possibly no other woman ever had gave her a great deal of satisfaction.

“You a cop?”

Her occupation no longer a secret, she answered, “Private investigator.”

He looked back to Hugh for confirmation.

Hugh nodded. “I don’t like what’s going on. And I don’t understand why things have escalated so”—he coughed, a retching noise that sounded painful—“quickly.”

Dane took a step toward him. “You need to sit down. You need—”

“I need you to talk. Now,” Hugh said in a huff. He pushed away from the car and paced back and forth, his posture still rounded but his feet moving swifter.

Tess gulped. She could tell his movement was forced. That it would cost him. But his pride was obviously worth more than his comfort. Panic wove through her and her heart raced with sickening speed. Was his ego more important than his life? Because he literally looked like death warmed over. He needed medical attention. He needed a hospital room with machines whirring and tubes pumping drugs into him.

“I came across a couple of Wolf Seekers not far from Trey’s supposed location. I messed them up a bit and got them to talk. They had some very interesting information.”

“And that was?”

“Wolf Seekers?” Tess questioned. How come she’d never heard of them either? “Who are they?”

Dane looked to Hugh before he answered. “They’re humans who want to rid Los Angeles of wolves. At the moment, they’ve set their sights on the Night Runners.”

“Who’s in charge of them?” She knew there were groups of humans who were aware of Veilers and wanted to erase them from society. Heck, she’d gotten assistance from a couple of them. But why didn’t P.I.E., the most elite organization for eliminating Veilers, know about this faction? It was P.I.E.’s business to know about competing groups.