The warg nodded, making his mop of curly brown hair bounce into his eyes. “What do you need, sir?”

“I just learned that civil war is breaking out between the pricoliciand varcolac. Do you know anything about it?”

Bastien’s fingers tightened on the handle of the toolbox he seemed to always have in his hand, but other than that, he showed no reaction. “No, sir. I have no contact with my pack anymore.”

“I just want to make sure you’re safe. And that this won’t affect your job.”

“You mean, will I try to harm the turned wargs who come to the hospital?”

“Yes.”

For a long moment, the werewolf looked down at the floor, and when he finally raised his gaze, his normally soft brown eyes had turned fierce. “My loyalty is to this hospital, Doctor. I won’t let you down.”

Man, Eidolon loved this place. Managing a hospital staffed by dozens of different species, many of whom were natural enemies, could get hairy, but ultimately, they were here because they wanted to help others, and Eidolon took a lot of pride in that. And people like Bastien, who some liked to say was “only” a janitor, were the heart of the facility, and every bit as important as the most talented surgeon.

“Thanks, Bastien. Glad you’re back.”

After the warg limped away, his club foot knocking harder on the floor than his other, Eidolon dialed the phone. Arik, Runa’s brother and a top member of the R-XR, answered on the second ring.

“What do you want, demon?”

Arik wasn’t the friendliest guy ever. “I want to know if you’re aware that born wargs are out to commit genocide on the turneds.”

Arik swore. “I was just going to call you about that. We’ve had scattered reports of wargs attacking wargs, but no confirmation yet on whether or not it’s born-on-turned violence.”

“Wraith confirmed it, and he doesn’t get shit like this wrong.”

“We’ll look into it,” Arik said. “Got anything new on SF?”

“Maybe, but I don’t want to share anything until I hear from my sister.”

There was a brittle silence. These guys didn’t like being kept in the dark, especially if the one keeping them there was a demon. And even though Arik’s sister, Runa, was mated to Shade, the guy still hadn’t come around all that much.

Finally, Arik blew out a breath. “I think I should bring Runa to D.C.”

“You want to take her to R-XR headquarters?” Eidolon laughed. “Good luck with that. You’ll need an entire armored division to get her away from Shade.”

“I’ll get one if I have to.”

Eidolon dumped the cup of paper clips onto his desk and started tossing them back in, one by one. “You know they can’t be separated.”

“Shade and the kids can come, too. I can’t leave her unprotected.”

“Trust me. The only place safer than the cave is the hospital, and if it weren’t for the fact that I’m getting diseased wargs in by the dozen, they’d be here. You’ve got the same problem there. You might be able to protect her from born wargs, but you’re working with the virus. Can you guarantee that it won’t somehow find its way to her?” Silence was E’s answer. “Exactly.”

“Eidolon… I’m not sure I really have a choice in this.”

A chill went up Eidolon’s spine. “You’ve been ordered to bring her in.”

“It wasn’t an order. More of a strongly worded suggestion.”

“Why?”

“For her own protection,” Arik said, and just as Eidolon was about to call him on that bullshit, Arik added, “and because her ability to shift at will might provide her some resistance to SF or help us find a cure.”

She could shift at will because of the R-XR. They’d used her as a test subject for an experimental cure for lycanthropy, which hadn’t worked but had given her the ability to change into a werewolf any time she wanted to. Eidolon had already considered her altered DNA into the SF equation, had performed tests using her blood and the virus, but hadn’t seen any encouraging results.

“I’ll have Shade send you blood samples. Maybe you’ll have better luck than I have. But don’t you dare try to take her in,” he warned.

Arik cursed. “I’ll stall as long as I can. Update me on the rest as soon as possible.”

“You do the same.” Eidolon paused, remembering Ky’s question about the new breed of warg. Could be a lead on a new direction of testing. “Arik… do you know anything about werewolves that shift during the new moon instead of the full?”

“Nope.”

“That’s what I thought. Keep me in the loop about the other shit.”

Arik hung up just as Eidolon’s beeper went off. Three more diseased wargs were incoming. Five more were being brought in… dead. But not because of the disease. Trauma.

Looked like the civil war was in full swing.

Everything hurt. Kar groaned. Heat surrounded her, though an icy draft cut through the warmth every once in a while. She opened her eyes. Blinked. Blinked again, hoping that she was seeing things.

Nope. She appeared to be in some sort of… basement? Dungeon? The fire set into one wall allowed her to see the hard-packed dirt floor, covered in places by straw. The walls were log and stone, and attached to one rough slab of rock were huge rings from which thick chains hung. A meat hook dangled from the ceiling.

This was a werewolf containment lair. She knew because she had one.

Her memory came back in a series of slaps against her brain. She’d been running from The Aegis. Looking for Luc. She’d been caught. Shot. And then Luc was there. They’d actually held a conversation, though the details were a little hazy.

She sniffed the air, got a lungful of burning hardwood mingled with the musky scent of warg, and the very male scent of Luc.

Something thumped above her, followed by the creak of a door opening. Groaning, she rolled onto her back, clenching her teeth at the wash of pain through her right side. Luc, wearing jeans and a blue flannel shirt, clomped down the stairs with a steaming bowl of what smelled like rich, meaty soup in his hands.

“You’re awake.” His words came out as a grunt.

“Yeah,” she said hoarsely.

“You’re pregnant?”

“Yes.”

Oh, God, she’d told him. Her memories churned, and so did her stomach. He’d asked if she was going to kill the baby if it was born human, and his voice had been as cold as the draft blowing across her face. Thing was, the baby probably would be born human—not because the father was turned, but because shewas. He believed she was varcolacbecause he’d seen the mark she’d had tattooed on by a warlock who specialized in mystical markings. Thankfully, during their sex-fest in Egypt, Luc hadn’t questioned how a warg could infiltrate The Aegis, but then, he hadn’t asked anything about her. Not even her name.

Luc shoved his shaggy black hair back from his face and kneeled next to her. “I brought you some stew.”

The savory aroma of rabbit filled her nostrils, and though her mouth watered, she didn’t feel like eating. She wanted to go back to sleep, even though pain wracked her and her skin was so sensitive it hurt to lay on the lumpy pallet where she could feel every individual piece of straw. “I’m not very hungry.”

He doubled up the pillow behind her to elevate her head and he put a spoon of stew to her lips. “You need to eat so I can give you some medicine. Don’t worry,” he said, when she opened her mouth to protest, “it won’t hurt the baby.” He took advantage of her open mouth to shove the food inside.

Even though she wasn’t hungry, she moaned at the taste. “That’s good.”

“Isn’t hard to put some meat, water, and potatoes in a pot.” He dipped the spoon in the bowl and caught a large chunk of rabbit. “You’ll eat this entire thing.”

His command rankled, and though she scarcely had the energy, she squirmed into a sit. “I appreciate your saving my life, but you didn’t have to kill the Guardian, and—”