"As soon as Dana gets news, she's going to be after you-who escaped her clutches before." He gave a little nod to Anna. "I saw it, too, when she focused on Charles as her prey. Outside of truth saying, you look good for this. The fight. His stonewalling the conference. Stalking your mate. Tom's been a policeman off and on for most of his life. He says that what she has on you would get you arrested in human courts-and quite likely convicted." He raised his eyes to Charles, who allowed it. "She doesn't have to convince us or your father, remember. The only higher authority among the fae is the Gray Lords-and good enough for human courts is what they'll look for."

He took a strong swallow of his coffee. "Her word. And she's a Gray Lord. She'll have every fae in the States on your tail. If you resist, if your father resists-and you know he will-it would be war."

"Would she do that?" Anna asked.

"Yes," Angus bit out without hesitation.

"We have to find out who killed him before she hears Chastel is dead, then." Charles said it as if it was no big deal.

"Right."

"Call your minions and have them cancel the dog and pony show for today," said Charles. "Arthur's mate's death is a good enough excuse for now. We need to check out Chastel's death scene, then I'll talk to Michel."

ANGUS was a good guide, stopping at yellow lights so Anna, behind him in the battered Corolla, didn't have to run red lights or risk losing him.

He'd told them that the French wolves had stayed in a private residence, rented in the Queen Anne district, a neighborhood of well-kept houses on the side of a hill not terribly far from their hotel.

She saw the house before Angus turned on his signal. It was thoroughly modern, standing out from its more traditional neighbors like a sore thumb. And the reason she knew it was the right house was because of the werewolf drinking beer on the front porch.

Ian, their greeter from the airstrip, sat on a metal rocking chair with a can in his hand. The beer was camouflage, she thought. It was cold enough out that a man sitting on his porch at two thirty in the morning for hours was odd-and the beer can made it a little less... remarkable. Like he'd been kicked out and was waiting to be let in.

Anna followed Angus's car and parked in the driveway instead of on the street. It was a tight fit-there were already two cars in it-but the Corolla was a tidy little car.

Anna opened her door, and she could smell blood. She glanced at Charles, but he didn't show any sign of noticing. The hunger for raw meat was no new thing to him. He knew what he was and, usually, was able to accept it; accept it well enough that he and Brother Wolf could work together in a way no other wolf did.

At the top of the stairs, Ian held the front door open-while he stood a little to the side, protecting himself as much as possible from the smell of murder. He kept his attention firmly on his Alpha.

"Sir," he said. "No one in since you left. We've guards front and back as you requested. The other Frenchmen are settled in at the hotel as you requested."

"Good."

"Yes, sir." Ian appeared a little stressed. Impulsively, Anna touched his hand.

He took a couple of deep breaths and stared at her.

Angus tapped him on the cheek affectionately. "Omega wolf, my boy. Spreading peace and happiness, it's what they do."

He gestured, and Anna let go of Ian and followed Charles into the house.

"If Dana set this up, she'll know already," said Anna, when the door was shut behind them.

"Yes," Charles said. "Still, no sense advertising it if she doesn't." He paused in the hallway and looked at her. "You understand people better than I do. Do you think Dana would hire vampires? Do you think the vampires could be operating on their own?"

He underestimated himself, she thought, but put her instincts to work anyway.

"She's a Gray Lord. She enjoys playing games-she... takes pleasure in making herself look... unattractive. Which probably means she's either horribly ugly or stunning without the illusion." She closed her eyes, trying to make it fit. "No way she'd hire a vampire. She wouldn't trust them with her secrets." That was right. "She... she'd be okay having someone else do her dirty work-but not for money, I don't think. Someone who owes her-fae minions, maybe. Blackmail. But not hired guns."

"Agreed," said Charles.

"As far as the vampires are concerned... When they came after us, there was no emotion, no personal involvement in it. Just doing a job. But then we killed a couple of them, and that made it personal, right? So when they killed Sunny, they messed her up and left her where they did to... to count coup on the werewolves."

"Angus?" Charles asked. "Dana lives here. You'll know her better than we do."

"I don't understand women at all," disavowed Angus. "Add fae to that, and you can count me out." There was a little pause. "But I think Rabbit's got her nailed. Sounds right about the vampires, too."

"Anna," said Charles mildly before Anna could protest. "Not Rabbit."

Angus tilted his head. "Term of respect," he told Anna. "That's all. Anna."

"If you please." Charles didn't dwell on it, he just went on to the next thing. "The vampires have some way of masking their scent from us. Keeps us out of their daytime sleeping places."

Angus froze. "You think this is a vampire kill? Four vampires against Chastel and Michel?"

"The Beast was hurt." Charles avoided saying the names of the dead, usually. Referring to them by a nickname was apparently okay. "Michel... is much less dominant than your Tom. His heart is in the right place, but he is no warrior. Otherwise, the Beast would have killed him long since. Where were the rest of the French wolves?"

"At an all-night LAN party."

"A LAN party?" Anna sort of knew what that was. "Isn't that where geeks meet up and play the same game together on a lot of computers?"

Angus nodded. "Alan thought it might be interesting-let them get their aggression out without actually killing anyone." He paused. "And no one actually did-not there, anyway. Anyway, he and a few members of his family, several of my pack, and... I think one of the Spaniards took it upon themselves to arrange a LAN party with some first-person shooter game."