Slayers who had tried to kill Sin.

They tried to kill my female.

Didn’t matter that the thought was insane. That it wasn’t true. That it could never betrue. Something dark reached up and grabbed Con, squeezed rational thought out of his brain, and before he’d even fully shifted, he launched himself at the group of humans engaged in battle with dozens of wargs. The scene was chaos—wargs fighting each other and slayers in snow that had turned to pink, bloody slush.

He leaped, mouth watering as he prepared to bite right through a slayer. In midair, a gray mass of fur broadsided him. The warg’s teeth clamped onto his shoulder and his claws dug into Con’s ribs, and crazily enough, it was the damned slayer who brought down a blade and separated the warg’s head from his neck, probably saving Con’s life.

Faintly, he heard Eidolon order his brothers to gather the Guardians without killing them, something about Tay and Ky wanting them alive, and then another pricolicislammed into Con, and nothing mattered but the battle. The crunch of bone between his teeth, the taste of blood on his tongue.

He didn’t know how long the battle had raged when he felt a sting in his flank. Spinning, he rounded on the source… Sin?

She stood a few yards away, a crossbow trained on him. Searing agony stole his breath as his body turned inside out, twisting and morphing until he was back in his human form. She’d hit him with an Aegis morph dart, and damn, it hurt to shift with unnatural speed like that. He went to his knees, the icy snow scraping his bare skin. A god-awful snarl sounded behind him, and Sin, moving with catlike grace, launched a morning star at the charging warg while shooting another with the crossbow. The injuries wouldn’t be fatal, but the wargs fell to the ground, incapacitated by her well-placed strikes.

“You’re… damned good,” he rasped.

The cold-induced blush in her cheeks gave her a fresh, playful expression as she tossed him his clothes. “I’m made of awesome.” She offered him a hand. “Sorry about the dart, but Eidolon doesn’t know which of these werewolves is Luc, and he needs your help.” He could be macho and not take her help, but right now, his leg didn’t feel stable, he was sore from a dozen claw and bite wounds, and, really, he’d take the excuse to touch her. “I thought shifting healed you.”

The world tilted and spun a little, and shit, stop the ride, he was ready to get off.

“We all heal at different levels depending on our species and type of wounds. Trust me, I healed a lot in that shift.” Not as much as he’d have liked, but at least he wasn’t bleeding. He grunted and came to his feet. All around, the battle raged, and Sin took down another warg with a targeted shoulder shot as he plucked the dart out of his thigh and tossed it to the ground. “Has anyone checked the cabin for Luc?”

“Not that I know of.” She frowned. “Looks like the varcolacare retreating.”

Yeah, they were. The ground was littered with bodies and injured wargs, some of whom were starting to shift as the battle waned. He tugged on his jeans and whipped the shirt over his head. “Come on. Let’s search the cabin.”

Sin shook her head. “I’m going to help out the guys. You go.” Before he could argue, she was off and running.

“Sin!” he called after her. “Be careful. You still have assassins after you.”

She flashed him a wave with one hand and took down a warg with another.

Christ. The female was going to give him a heart attack.

Con sprinted to the cabin, his heart pounding at the sight of blood splashed on the snow, the door, and the entryway of the cabin. Luc lay stiffly on the floor, bleeding from an apparent gunshot wound to the chest.

“Hold still, buddy.” Con sank down on his heels and slapped his hand over the bubbling wound. “Eidolon! Shade!” The brothers were still engaged in battle, now mostly defending the varcolacthat were trying to flee.

Keeping an eye on the situation outside, because it would suck to get attacked while he was rendering aid, he ripped open Luc’s shirt to expose the bullet hole. Luc moaned as Con performed a rapid exam, gently rolling the heavy-ass warg to check for an exit wound. Sure enough, the bullet had blasted a mangled hole through his shoulder blade.

Finally, the two demons jogged over, leaving Wraith, Sin, and Tayla to clean up. Looked like staff from UG had arrived, too. “What do we have?” E asked.

“GSW to the right upper chest. Through and through. He’s got blood in his airway, and his breaths are rapid and shallow.” Not that any of that mattered, since Shade and Eidolon would be able to get inside Luc and use their gifts to heal him quickly and efficiently.

They both palmed Luc’s arms, the symbols on their right hands glowing intensely. Luc groaned, but his eyes were bright as they locked on Con’s. He mumbled something about a car. “Under… the rug.”

“Hey, man, it’s okay—”

He shook his head. “Let her… out. Name’s… Kar.” The Feast female.

“We got Luc,” Shade said. “Go ahead and handle whomever he’s got stashed under the rug.” Shade frowned down at the warg. “Hell’s fires. You think you know someone…”

Eidolon muttered something about Shade’s BDSM cave, but Con ignored them to roll back the thick, knotted rug. There was nothing there but wood planks.

Sin and Wraith stalked through the door, and behind them was Lore, hauling a medic duffel over his shoulder.

“UG staff is patching up wargs, and all surviving Guardians are tied up,” Wraith said. “But they could probably use some medical attention. Especially the one dipshit with the idiotic Mohawk. He lost a lot of blood.”

“Because you ate him,” Sin said wryly.

Wraith blinked with exaggerated innocence. “Fighting makes me hungry.”

Con’s own mouth watered at the sight of Sin, all fresh from battle, her eyes bright and hair wild. She pointed at the floor. “Oh, secret door!”

“You can see it?”

“You can’t?” Her expression of innocence matched Wraith’s, and yes, those two were definitely related.

Lore punched her in the shoulder. “Stop being an imp.” He moved toward Con and set the bag down on the floor. “Assassins are trained to recognize the spells cast around hidden entryways. Luc’s secret door glows like a neon sign to us, but few others would see it. She’s messing with you.”

“You ruin all my fun.” Sin scowled at her brother as she bent to trace her fingers along what Con assumed was the edge of the hidden door. Then she thumped her fist on a board. Thumped on another. And another. The third time was the charm, and suddenly, the door popped up, a three-by-three square. “And yes, I knew where all the secret doors at Rivesta’s were. I just liked watching you look for them.”

Sin really was an imp. Con peered down the hole, the darkness no match for his vamp vision. He didn’t see anything, but he heard a heartbeat, soft breaths, and he smelled the bitter spice of anxiety.

And sickness.

“Kar?” he shouted down. “My name is Conall. I’m a friend of Luc’s”—he ignored Luc’s snort—“and it’s safe to come up.” There was no answer. He glanced at Sin. “I’m going down.”

“Be careful.”

“You two are just so cute,” Wraith drawled.

Con ignored the demon and dropped into the hole, not bothering with the stairs. He landed in a crouch, fully prepared for the throwing knife that whooshed over the top of his head. He whirled to face the thrower, whose arm was cocked back and prepared to launch another blade. Before she could, he had her in a headlock and pinned, face-first, against the wall.

“Be nice,” he growled into her ear. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

She snorted. “What makes you think you could hurt me?”

Her arrogant, wiseass comment reminded him of Sin. “I’d ask who you are, but something tells me you wouldn’t answer and I think I know anyway. I’m going to release you and head back upstairs, where Luc is being treated for a gunshot wound. If you want to see how he’s doing, you’ll come up, and you won’t try to fillet me again.”