“That Guardian is Lupine, and Ely’s my kin. Dad says Ely wants me, and I don’t care about the human rules right now. They think what we do is only ceremonial anyway.” Sean looked down at her, his eyes tight with pain. “Come with me?”

Andrea started shaking her head before he finished the sentence. “I can’t. I shouldn’t. I’m a half-Fae Lupine. His family won’t want me there.”

“Doesn’t matter. You might be able to help.”

“If you’re thinking of my healing gift, I told you; it’s not very strong. It might make no difference at all.”

“Damn it, Andrea, we have to try.”

The desperation in Sean’s eyes caught at Andrea’s heart. She hadn’t recovered from his smiling suggestion that they go into the house—no one was home; she knew that. She’d wanted what he offered so much it worried her.

But their personal lives had just dwindled to background noise. Once again, Sean was being asked to go and watch someone die.

Andrea drew a breath. “All right.” She might be able to ease Ely’s pain a little, at the very least.

Sean looked at his bike in pieces, then turned away, sunshine dancing in his dark hair. “Dad left his truck in the back. The keys are in it. Fetch it and meet me round front.”

Andrea nodded. Sean wiped off his hands, picked up his tools, and disappeared into the house without a word.

He’d gone to get the sword. Andrea’s heart beat faster. Sean’s expression, before he’d turned away, had been so empty that she’d wanted to put her arms around him. She hadn’t had the heart to refuse his request to accompany him, though she still wasn’t sure how much good she could do. Her healing talent had fixed up Ronan, but that had been the equivalent of bandaging a skinned knee. Kodiak bear Ronan was tough and strong, and he had an amazing metabolism. A few bullets in the shoulder were to him what bee stings were to everyone else. If Sean’s father had told Sean to bring the sword, it meant that Dylan thought Sean’s cousin beyond saving.

Andrea found the white pickup parked behind the house, keys hanging from the ignition. No Shifter would take another Shifter’s vehicle, and few humans ever ventured into Shiftertown without invitation, so the chances of someone stealing it were slim to none. Despite the fact that the truck was ten or more years old, Andrea knew, as she started it up, that it would be in perfect condition. Shifters learned to keep vehicles running in top shape, being forbidden to buy brand new ones.

She pulled the pickup through the alley and around to the front of the house. Ellison Rowe, another Lupine and a friend to the Morrisseys, came out of his house across the street and jogged over.

Ellison’s pack had been relocated here when Shifters took the Collar twenty years ago, but by all evidence he loved being a Texan, even by adoption. He never left home without his big belt buckle, cowboy boots, hat, and Texas drawl.

“What’s up?” he asked, leaning on the open window.

“There’s been another shooting. Down in San Antonio. Sean’s cousin.”

Ellison’s face changed. “Aw, shit, not again. What the hell is going on?”

“Must be a new hobby for humans.”

“Damn,” Ellison growled. “Come and play Shoot the Shifter. Step right up, have a good time. Assholes.”

Sean emerged from the house in a button-down shirt in place of his T-shirt, the sword strapped to his back. Ellison straightened up. “I’m sorry, man,” he said.

Sean nodded his thanks. He approached the driver’s side, and Andrea slid over to let him get in. Sean carefully laid the sword across the seat, but the pickup was narrow, and the hilt had to rest on Andrea’s lap.

“Goddess go with you,” Ellison said as Sean buckled his seat belt. “Andrea, don’t let this Feline get you into any trouble, now, hear?”

“No worries there,” Andrea said, giving him a little smile. “Will you tell Glory where I am if she comes back?”

“You bet.” Ellison patted the top of the truck and stepped away as Sean pulled the truck away from the curb. Ellison watched them go, his stance somber.

Sean was silent as they rolled through the streets outside Shiftertown. As though a switch had flipped in him, Sean had gone from a Shifter male flirting with a female to a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders. His blue eyes flickered as he gave the traffic on Ben White a steely gaze, his hands tight on the steering wheel.

“Sean,” she said softly. “Please don’t count on me to save your cousin. Ronan’s was a flesh wound. If vital organs have been hit, that’s different.”

Sean acknowledged this with a tight nod. “I know that, love. But I can’t not try.”

“Oh, I’m willing to try. I just don’t want you to get your hopes up.”

“I like hope,” he said, his mouth softening. “Hope—it’s a fine thing.”

The sheathed sword’s hilt was hard on Andrea’s lap. She brushed it with her fingertips and felt the Fae magic in it, a tingle that worked its way through her body. Andrea could see it in her mind, golden threads of Fae spells wafting from the metal.

She saw those same kinds of threads in her nightmares too, shimmering wires that sought to bind her, to trap her. Last night, she’d fought them again, flailing and thrashing to get away, and they’d drawn tighter, tighter.

She drew a sharp breath.

Sean glanced at her, his face too tight. He was nearly vibrating with tension, his grief and anger held too closely inside him. Shifters shouldn’t do that; it ate them up.