"Jenks," I said as I shifted the jar of sauce to my hip, "it's noon. If you want to sit this one out, that's fine. I know you nap this time of day."

"I'm fine, Rachel," he said darkly. "Let's go."

To insist would only tick him off, so we headed out. My vamp-made boots clumped on the hardwood floor of the sanctuary, and after setting the jar on the table by the door, I fumbled in my bag for my sunglasses. I wrangled them on one-handed and pulled the door open.

"I got that sauce you wanted, Glenn," I said, then looked up. I was getting tired of finding unexpected people on my stoop. Maybe I ought to spend an afternoon with a drill and put in one of those peepholes. How expensive could they be?

"Hey, David, what's up?" I said, taking him in. He was out of his usual suit, wearing a soft gray suede tuck-in shirt and pair of jeans instead. His face was absolutely clean-shaven, and a long, dull scratch marked his cheek and neck. Behind him at the curb, his gray sports car idled.

"Rachel." His quick gaze darted to Jenks. "Jenks," he added. Standing a step back, the usually collected Were took a steadying breath, reaching to straighten his missing jacket. His hand clenched as if reaching for the handle of his briefcase. My worry intensified.

"What?" I said, expecting the worst.

David looked behind him at his car. "I need your help. Serena, my girlfriend, needs a heavy painkiller." His eyes were pinched when they met mine. "I would have phoned, but I think the FIB has tapped my line. She Wered, Rachel. My God, she actually Wered."

"Holy crap," Jenks said.

Tense, I took my shades off and set the tomato down beside the sauce. "The full moon isn't until Monday. That's when the others first Wered."

His head bobbing, David fidgeted. "I told her about the women in the morgue. I told her I was sorry, and that she probably wouldn't be able to stop from Wereing on Monday unless she gained some control over it between now and then." Brown eyes pleading for forgiveness, he added, "So I walked her through it, or I tried. She's not built for it," he said, his voice cracking. "Weres came from humans, but we've evolved apart from them for too long. It's not supposed to hurt this bad. She is in too much pain. Do you have a charm? A potion? Anything."

Lately I'd begun carrying pain amulets in my bag, like some people have breath mints. "I have three with me right now," I said, reaching behind me to shut the door. "Let's go."

David took the steps two at a time. Jenks was a flash of wings, and I brought up the rear, slipping into the passenger's side as David slammed his door shut. I thought that a curse that turned humans into Weres was stupid if it hurt too much to be of any use, but then again the focus enabled alphas to pack together to eliminate the pain of shifting, so maybe there was some sense to it.

"Hey!" I protested when the car started moving before I had my door shut. Ignoring me, David scanned the street as I buckled myself in, bracing against the dash when he took a corner too fast. Weres had excellent reflexes, but this was pushing it. "David. Slow down."

"I've doped her up on bane," he said, managing the wheel with one hand as he fastened his belt with the other. "I can't let her wake up and find me gone. The pain is killing her. I don't think it's going to stop until she turns back. This was a mistake. God, what have I done?"

My fingers felt the outline of the focus in its lead-lined bag. I didn't think the artifact was going to help. The dulling of pain happened when Were packs combined into a round. The focus only allowed them to do it more efficiently.

"David, slow down!" I repeated, when he came out onto a one-way, driving like he was in the Indy 500. Jenks hugged the stem of the rear-view mirror. He looked a little green. "The I.S. is watching for me," I added. "They usually have a cruiser in the church up on the right."

David slowed, a shaky hand on the wheel. The lot was empty, and he picked up speed.

"What do you mean the FIB has tapped your line?" I asked as we got on the interstate to cross the river from the Hollows to Cincinnati. "They can't do that."

"They did," David said grimly. "Officer Glenn thinks I'm responsible for the Were deaths. Not just the suicides, but all of them. Thinks I'm a Jack the Ripper meets Mr. Hyde."

I made a scoffing bark of laughter, then tensed when he darted across the path of a semi. "It's Trent," I said in the fading adrenaline. "He told me himself. And watch what you're doing. God! You're a worse driver than Ivy!"

David gave me a quick look. "Trent Kalamack? What for?"

Jenks's wings were an odd shade of green. "He's after the focus," the ill pixy said. "He found out this morning that Rachel has it."

"Damn me back to my mother's bitch," David swore softly. "Do you have it? Is it safe?"

My head bobbed. "I'm going to give it to Piscary to put it back into hiding."

"Rachel!" David exclaimed, and I pointed to the truck stopped at the red light just off the bridge.

"I can't keep it safe," I said as he hit the brakes. "What am I supposed to do with it? I don't have enough magic to hide it once someone knows I've got it. At least Piscary has enough clout to keep people from drugging him into telling where it is."

David's eyes were worried. "But it belongs to the Weres."

The light changed, and I held my breath until I was sure David wasn't going to dart around the truck ahead of us, but the usually uber-safety-conscious Were just fumed at the slow acceleration. "Believe me," I said softly, "if there was a way I could give it to the Weres, I would, but it's demon-crafted, and all it's going to do is cause problems. Change is needed, but slow, not fast. Otherwise…" I thought of his girlfriend's pain.

"A Were should hide it, then," he offered.

"Who, David?" I demanded, frustrated, and Jenks's wings shifted nervously. "You? We tried that. Mr. Ray? Mrs. Sarong? How about Vincent? He had three packs bound to him, and they were savage. Every one of them channeling the power of an alpha but lacking the restraint that evolved with the alpha position."

Silently his jaw clenched, and I continued. "You don't become an alpha, you're born that way. They couldn't handle it. Change has to come slow. It's like your girlfriend trying to Were without the mental and physical cushion a thousand years of evolution gave you."

David's grip on the wheel eased, and I relaxed. "Maybe it's not time yet?" I said softly, bracing myself as he made a quick right into his apartment complex.

"Ah, that doesn't look good," Jenks said, and David's face went empty of emotion. I followed their gazes to the parking lot, and my stomach sank. There were two I.S. cruisers, three from the FIB, and a multispecies ambulance.

"It's okay," I said, reaching for my seat belt. "I don't think they're at your apartment."

Saying nothing, David pulled up as close as he could get, fumbling with his seat belt, swearing until it released. "It's my apartment. My curtains were closed. They're open now. And Serena couldn't be awake yet." Leaving the keys in the ignition, he lurched out of the car, steps crisp and intent as he headed for his door.

I slowly got out to stand wedged between the car and the open door, my arms on the roof. Jenks landed on my shoulder, and we said nothing when an I.S. officer stopped David on the threshold. They spoke briefly, and I felt sick as the man cuffed him. David looked broken but offered no resistance, knowing that to fight would give them a reason to throw him in a cell and forget about him to the limit of the law.

Someone moved past the upstairs window, and I gripped my bag tighter, glad I had the focus, since the I.S. was taking the opportunity to search David's apartment. His cat was watching me from a second window, and it skittered away before a dark figure passed by it. "What are we going to do, Jenks?" I whispered.