Asil frowned at the black wolf, who stared right back and lifted his lips to display his fangs.

“Stop that,” she told Walter, hoping he would listen to her. What they didn’t need right now was a dominance fight. It always took a while for a new wolf to establish his place in the pack. Interesting that Walter didn’t immediately assume Asil was higher-ranked. “We need everyone in fighting shape.”

“Walter rescued someone from the witch’s wolf and ended up Changed,” Charles said. “He’s agreed to help us.”

He could have phrased that a lot differently, Anna thought. Her hand touched the top of Walter’s head protectively. Instead of dismissing the new wolf, Charles had made it clear that the wolf was under his protection and was a valuable participant in their attempt to foil the witch.

Pleased as she was, she didn’t want Charles and Asil to fight, so she said again, “Could Mary…Mariposa be drawing on the Marrok’s power through the pack bond?”

Charles quit frowning at Asil, and said, “It certainly felt like my father’s power. But my father cannot hold me like that.”

Asil looked grim. “A strong enough witch can control any werewolf who doesn’t have a pack to protect him. It is forbidden by witch law, but it is possible. One of the problems Sarai and I had with Mariposa was that she was making people do things-like kill family pets. And she has had time to grow even more powerful. I think that because she is, through me, a de facto member of the pack-she might have managed to combine your father’s powers with her own.”

Anna wasn’t certain of the implications, but Charles was obviously very unhappy.

“Are we still going down to talk to the Marrok?” Anna asked. “Even if he can’t come here, shouldn’t we warn him?”

Charles went very still.

“What do you think your father would do if we told him the whole of it?” Asil asked.

Charles didn’t answer.

“Yes,” Asil agreed. “That’s what I think, too. He’d be out here-after he forced all of us to go home. No matter that it would be an incredibly stupid thing to do. He protects his own and has as much confidence in his reputation of invulnerability as everyone else does. Killing Doc Wallace left him hurting-and he won’t risk losing anyone else for a long time. Certainly not his son.”

“No witch could control my father,” Charles said. But Anna could hear the doubt in his voice. Maybe he did, too, because he turned his head, and said, more softly, “We’ll have to go after them ourselves.”

Asil suddenly raised his face to the wind and closed his eyes. Then he became very still.

Charles whirled toward their campsite-Anna turned to look as well, but she didn’t see anything. Not at first.

She seemed to coalesce from the wind and snow. Her fur glistened silver, gold, and shadow. They all froze, staring at her as she stared at Asil. After a few seconds, the wolf hopped off the log and walked slowly forward, whining. Her tail wagged, just a little.

Asil started to move toward the wolf, but Charles grabbed him, holding him back.

“Sarai?” Asil said hoarsely, limp in Charles’s grip.

The wolf lowered her head and dropped her tail in a classic submissive pose. She whined again. Beside Anna, Walter growled and placed himself between her and the other wolf. But the witch’s werewolf had eyes only for Asil.

The wolf made a pleading, grieving sound. Then she turned and ran. Anna was watching her, so she didn’t see what Asil did, only that he was suddenly free from Charles’s hold and running after the wolf who wore his mate’s semblance.

Charles didn’t give chase. He just watched as the pair of them disappeared into the darkness.

“That’s not good, is it?” Anna murmured.

“No.” Charles’s voice was grim.

“So what are we going to do? Should we track them?”

“No.” Charles looked at Walter. “But I don’t think we need to, do we? The witch is still staying at that old forest-service cabin.”

Walter yipped a soft agreement.

“We’re not going to tell the Marrok?” The wind picked up again, and Anna shivered. “Are you sure that’s wise? Does your father have a witch in his pay who could help? My old pack shared one with the other Chicago pack.”

“Asil’s witch has found a way to control a werewolf who has the protection of a pack,” Charles said. “I’ve never heard of anything like that-so I don’t think she’s been spreading the word. Thankfully, witches are so jealous of each other. But if she’s the only witch who knows how-we need to keep it that way. We can’t bring a witch into this.”

He was still watching the place where the witch’s pet had disappeared into the darkness.

“What about your father?”

“Asil is right. He’d want to handle the witch on his own.”

“Could he?”

Charles started to shrug but stopped halfway, as if it hurt. “She didn’t have any trouble with me. That doesn’t mean that my father couldn’t fight her off-but if not…my father controls all the werewolves in North America, Anna. All of them. If she took him, she could have them all.”

“Is that what she wants?”

Charles was swaying a little, she saw. “I don’t know. She’s been looking for Asil for a long time-but my father is quite a prize.”

Anna took a step closer to Charles and wrapped an arm around his waist to steady him. “Are we safe here for the rest of the night? Or will she come for us?”

He looked down at her and sighed. “Safe as anywhere, I expect. She has Asil to occupy her. Poor old Moor. If I were in any kind of shape, I’d have gone after them. But he’s on his own tonight.” A humorless smile came and went on his face. “We don’t have any choice but to spend the rest of the night here,” he told her. “I need food and rest before I’m good for another mile of travel.”

She parked him on one of the downed trees, in a place that was somewhat sheltered from the wind, and rebuilt the campfire. Walter blocked the wind as she used a glob of Sterno and the lighter to force a fire out of the driest chunks of wood she could find. While the water heated, Anna rebandaged Charles’s ribs with strips of a clean shirt. Docile as a child, he let her do it.

She fed him two of the freeze-dried meals, gave one to Walter, and ate another. When they were finished, she kicked piles of snow onto the struggling fire until it was out completely, then urged Charles back into their original shelter. She was too tired to try changing again, and Charles was in worse shape. Walter curled up in front of them both, effectively blocking the wind and snow that tried to reach them.

Anna opened her eyes in the darkness, certain that something had wakened her again. She raised her head from Charles’s warm, sweet-smelling skin and looked around. Walter was nowhere to be seen, and sometime in the night, she and Charles had reversed positions, so he lay between her and danger.

The wind and snow had ceased, leaving the forest silent and waiting.

“Me transmitte sursum, Caledoni,” she murmured. Too bad Scotty wasn’t around to beam them to safety. There was something about the heavy atmosphere that was frightening.

She listened hard but heard nothing. The weighted silence pounded on her ears and made the beat of her heart even louder in the stillness of the winter night.

Her heartbeat, her breath was the only thing she could hear.

“Charles?” she whispered, touching his shoulder tentatively. When he didn’t respond, she shook him.

His body fell away from her. He’d been lying on his side, but he rolled limply out from under their barely adequate shelter and onto the snow. The moonlight illuminated him almost as well as daylight could have.

Her breath stopped in her chest, followed by a rush of pain that made her eyes water; blood had drenched his back all the way through his coat. Black glistened on her fingers: blood, his blood.