"Door," she whispered to Moira, and the witch trailed her fingers from their place on her shoulder to the glass door and held it open while Anna scooted inside with her wounded burden.

"Windy tonight," someone in the lobby commented as the door shut behind them.

By some luck there was no one in the hall by the elevators-or on their floor when it stopped. Anna had to set Tom down to find the keycard for her room. Moira stayed beside him, murmuring softly, when Anna left him there as she tore the bedding from the bed and layered it with towels to absorb the blood.

Getting Tom up again took time they didn't have. He was semiconscious and defensive-and Anna was anything but calm. Finally, she just hefted him up. If he bit her, she'd still have time to get him in and shut the door. He was in too rough a shape to do any real damage, not compared to the damage the vampires had done on purpose. And she found that she was willing to risk that.

But he didn't bite her. She got him into the room, on the bed. Moira shut the door, and they both heaved a sigh of relief. Anna's phone rang for the second time. Moira shoved it into her bloody hands.

It was Charles.

"Anna?"

His voice was dark and urgent-and as soon as she heard it she felt him running through the dark streets. Felt his panic and the rising rage behind it like a dark tide of violence.

"I'm fine," she told him-though after she said it, she wasn't entirely sure that was true. In the heat of battle nothing had hurt-but she'd caught a few good punches and given a few, too. She didn't remember it, really. But her knuckles were sore, and so was her right shoulder. And her stomach wasn't too happy with her either. Fortunately, she hadn't taken stock until after she'd told him.

"Angus's healer called Angus to tell him he'd been summoned to our hotel room," Charles said. "Just after I felt your need."

Anna remembered the power she'd summoned to shut Tom up-and his conviction that Charles would feel it. Leah, the Marrok's mate, sometimes used Bran's clout when Bran wasn't even there. Evidently, Anna could do the same thing.

"Yes, well." Anna looked around and took in a deep breath. That secrecy spell, the one the vampires used, had some odd effects on the combatants, too, she remembered, enforcing the need for secrecy. She should have called Charles right away.

"I'd like it if you'd come here, too." She'd like it a lot. "Maybe Angus-but no one else. Tom's been hurt pretty badly."

"Badly enough the rest of his pack needs to stay away," said Charles coolly. Her sense of him had faded with his urgency, and she wasn't sure she should trust that coolness. The drop from violence to calm had been too fast.

"Right," she answered, though it hadn't been a real question. "Moira and I got him back here-but I didn't realize how badly he was bleeding. There's probably a blood trail-"

"No," said Moira firmly, though she was as white as the sheet she was sitting on-as white as it was because they were both covered in blood. "I took care of the blood."

Anna had learned enough about witchcraft to know that she didn't want to know any more. The alert beast inside her accepted, provisionally, that they were safe.

"You heard that?"

"I did."

"So we're safe in the room. Tom's not mortally wounded-I don't think..." The room abruptly smelled different. "He's changing."

"Best thing for him to do, if he can," said Charles. "You stay back from him. Moira should keep him calm enough that he's safe to be around. I'm coming-and I'll call Angus and tell him that if he values his second, he'll call off the rest of the pack. I'll be there in a couple of minutes, and you can give me the whole story then." Her phone stopped making noise, so she decided that he must have ended the call.

"Have you been around Tom when he changes before?" Anna asked Moira softly.

"Yes," said the witch.

"Good." She let herself sink into the chair opposite the bed. "Just sit still. It'll take a while longer this time-and changing when you hurt really sucks. He'll be vile-tempered when he comes out of it. Maybe not really himself, not for a while. Give him a little time before you touch him. He'll probably let you know when he can bear it."

"They almost killed us," Moira said. "If I could have seen them-"

"That blast of sunlight was impressive," Anna told her. "Next time we're attacked by vampires, I'll cower behind you and shout what they are into your ear." She paused. "It's a good thing you were with us. We'd have lost on our own. Someone knew a great deal about Tom." She remembered the dog pile of vampires who'd been trying to kill him-virtually ignoring her and Moira. "But they discounted you."

"Why would vampires attack us?" asked Moira. "Oh, I know they aren't friendly-but they are practical. Attacking Charles's mate is anything but practical."

"Someone paid them, I expect," Anna said tiredly. "Someone they were pretty certain could and would keep Charles away from them. Someone who knew we'd be out shopping today." She looked down at her hands as Tom growled and wheezed with the difficulty of the change. Then she said the last bit slowly, "Someone who could give them pack magic to mask the noise and the bodies until they were done.

"You think one of the werewolves is behind this?"

"I don't know." But she was afraid she did.

Tom completed his change. His breath came out in harsh, groaning pants. His fur was chocolate brown except where a silvery scar wound around his muzzle-and he was nearly as big as Charles in wolf shape. Charles was a very big wolf.

Moira reached out and touched his neck, and the wolf lunged, sending Anna to her feet. But before she did anything stupid, he settled again, his head in Moira's lap.

Someone knocked on the door, and it wasn't Charles.

Chapter SIX

CHARLES forced himself to walk. There was no hurry. Tom would have been a problem under other circumstances. But his mate was there to keep him under control. And even mad from pain and weakness, Tom wouldn't hurt an Omega.

He was off balance: Anna's fault. He wasn't used to panicking, and it put him on edge.

There were very few people he'd cared for enough to panic over-and most of them were long dead and forever beyond need of his aid. His father and his brother Samuel he could usually trust to take care of themselves.