And he rang off.

"You know," Anna said thoughtfully, "I'm kind of disappointed. I thought he knew everything."

"Not everything," admitted Charles. "He's just very good at giving that impression."

"And ad-libbing," said Angus. "Though I've never really caught him at it." He paused. "You know, I'm thinking that he might be that lightning bolt. Hope I'm there to see it."

Charles yawned. "So, tomorrow is one more meeting. I'll pull out some of the more creative things Da kept for last, then... perhaps an early end to the negotiations, which are useless now."

"Sunny's death," Anna said. "It seems wrong to let her death be... useful to us, but Sunny's death would be a good reason to close the meetings early."

Angus nodded. "No one will be fooled-they know what Chastel has done-but it will allow us to save face."

ANNA burrowed under him and grumbled when Charles laughed as cold toes made it to places cold toes should never hit an adult male. He rolled over on top of her, and she sighed happily, her eyes slitting open and glittering blue in the darkness of the hotel room.

"Well, hello," he murmured to Anna's wolf. "Werewolves," he informed her solemnly, "are warm-blooded. Very warm-blooded. We don't get cold and stick frigid toes and fingers into places cold things shouldn't go."

She blinked at him a couple of times. "Warm," she said, her voice husky.

"Yes," he answered. "But you could have pulled up the blanket before you got that cold."

She arched up off the mattress and kissed him hard, gripping his jaw in her hands.

While he kissed her, he rolled over until she was on top. Anna's wolf sometimes did things that Anna wasn't comfortable with. He'd learned to make accommodations for that-and one of those things was to make sure that unless Anna was in charge, she got the top. If she woke up underneath him, she had a tendency to panic.

He couldn't communicate with Anna's wolf the way he-and Anna-could talk to Brother Wolf. She tended to come out when Anna was asleep and usually spoke in one-word sentences.

She nipped his ear, tugging on the amber earrings she'd gotten for him.

"Gently," he told her. "I like those earrings."

He ran his hands up the small of her back, and she arched into him with a happy sound. He let her play as she would for a while before catching her hands.

"Hey, lady wolf," he said breathlessly. "We need to wake up your other half before we take this any farther." He didn't actually know how much Anna knew about what her wolf did at times like this-whether she was along for the ride or still asleep. But it didn't seem right to do anything serious unless he was certain Anna knew what her wolf had been up to.

She stared at him, and he watched the change happen, just in her eyes. Blindingly blue eyes warmed to root-beer brown in a few heartbeats. She didn't seem surprised to find herself braced on top of him, just smiled and flexed her hands on his shoulders.

"All right?" he asked.

In answer, she wriggled her hips and pushed herself down. He groaned at the unexpectedly aggressive move. Anna's wolf did things like that-Anna was usually more temperate. She set a hard and rapid pace, and he let her do as she would.

"I'll just lie back and think of England," he huffed to make her laugh.

It backfired on him because she rose up-and then stopped, holding his hips down by tucking her feet over his thighs. "If you are thinking of England," she said, "I must not be doing this right."

And she did a few things that turned his brain right off.

Afterward, she lay across him like a sweet-smelling blanket-only blankets didn't usually drop kisses down the side of his neck.

He said, "Do you remember when I told you that you were my mate-and you responded by telling me you didn't like sex?"

She giggled at his smug tone. "I thought it only fair to warn you."

"Rabbits like sex," he said blandly.

She sat up and nipped his nose. "I'll rabbit you. I know where your ticklish spots are."

Someone knocked on the door, a quick, urgent sound. "It's Angus. Let me in."

Anna squeaked and dove out of the bed, putting on last night's clothes. Charles pulled on his jeans and strode to the door. It was a little after 2:00 A.M.-something urgent must have come up. Especially since Angus hadn't called.

As soon as Anna was decently covered, Charles pulled open the door and invited Angus in. The other wolf hesitated on the threshold but made no other comment on what Charles and Anna had been up to-though even a human nose would probably have picked it up.

"Brought sustenance. Take one," Angus said. He had a cup holder with four steaming cups: two cocoas, two coffees.

Charles took a cocoa and Anna, who usually drank cocoa with him, abruptly grabbed the coffee.

"Need to wake up," she told him, so he must have looked surprised.

Angus set the holder on the table and took a seat, the other coffee in hand. "Chastel's dead," he said flatly.

"I thought his wounds weren't enough to kill him." Charles actually couldn't remember how much damage he'd done.

"Not from the fight." Angus took a swig of coffee. "Someone shot him with silver buckshot and then... It looks like they filleted him. Beat the hell out of Michel, poor bugger. Do you know him? Fractured skull, broken jaw, broken ribs, and other trauma. It'll be a while before he's in any shape to tell anyone anything."

"Who killed him?"

"That's the problem; your scent is the only one present besides Chastel's and Michel's."

"He was with me all night," Anna said indignantly.

Charles gave her a pleased smile. "I didn't kill him, nor had I hand in it."

Angus nodded glumly. "Figured so. But needed you to tell me."

"Filleting a person takes time." Charles supposed that was something he shouldn't admit to knowing. "How professional was the job?"

"I couldn't have butchered a hog as well," Angus said. "And I worked as a butcher for twenty years." He hesitated, then sat on the chair. "Look, I know it wasn't you. This is... not your style of kill. Whoever did this was frick ing crazy. You'd have just ripped him to pieces and been done with it. But that fae... she can't recognize the truth when she hears it. Not like we can-the fae don't accept our word as good enough." He sounded a little bitter.