He cocked his head and shot me a smirk. His warm hand closed around mine, and I swear I felt the touch all the way to my toes. “Try to stay out of trouble, okay?”

I opened my mouth to get the last word in, but he disappeared. I stood there with my hand extended like an idiot for a second. Then a cat snicker brought my attention back to the audience that had just observed one of the most awkward moments of my life. I lowered my hand and wiped it on the cloth of my dress.

“Well,” I said lamely. “I guess that’s that.”

“Hmm, yes. I’d say so,” Rhea said. I scanned her face for signs of judgment but found none. Overall, she seemed downright amused by the whole thing.

“If you’ll excuse me,” I said. “I think I’m going to take a walk to, ah, get some fresh air. Giguhl, you coming?”

The cat shook his head. “I’m good here. But if I could make a suggestion?”

I sighed, waiting for the punch line.

“You might want to consider a wardrobe change.”

I looked down. Adam had me so flustered I’d forgotten I was still wearing the red chiton. “Maisie?”

“I’m on it.” Static swirled around my body, replacing the dress with my old clothes. I patted my pockets, relieved to find my weapons back where they belonged.

“Thanks,” I said. Having my own clothes—and weapons—improved my mood considerably.

“Where are you going?” Maisie asked.

“Just around the block to clear my head a little.”

Giguhl snorted. “You might try a cold shower instead.”

With a final glare at the demon cat, I turned on my heel and walked away. Over my shoulder I called, “Giguhl, change into demon form.”

Poof. The hall filled with the acrid scent of brimstone.

Maisie gasped.

“Good gods,” Orpheus said.

I smiled and kept walking. When Giguhl switched forms, he always ended up naked. I won’t go into details, but a naked demon is a sight you don’t want to behold more than once. I was about to turn the corner when Rhea finally spoke.

“Why is it forked?”

5

Thus far, the food in New York left a lot to be desired. Granted, I’d only been in the city about four hours, but back in California, none of my meals ever bit back.

“Ouch!” I reared back and checked to be sure my ear was still attached. My meal stared back with glittering eyes, black in the dim light. He had a few days’ worth of scruff, and a diamond stud glinted from beneath greasy black hair.

“Fuck you, bitch.” His attitude—and his blood—left a bitter taste in my mouth. Frustrated and too tired to deal with this shit, I pushed him away. Instead of running like a normal person, he had the nerve to pull a gun on me.

“Seriously?” I said. If I weren’t so annoyed, I probably would have laughed. “I think you better hand over the gun before you hurt yourself—or I do it for you.”

He pulled the trigger. The bullet ripped through the flesh just below my right collarbone. I might have been immune to the damage, but it fucking hurt.

“Godsdammit!” I yelled, pressing a hand to my chest. “Gimme that thing.” I jerked the gun out of his hands and threw it into a wooded area off the trail. His eyes widened and he stumbled back, mumbling prayers to the Virgin Mary.

“She can’t help you now,” I said menacingly. He tripped over his feet and ran off into the night. I briefly considered giving chase but decided it wasn’t worth the effort.

Despite the empty trails this time of night, Central Park still hummed with energy. In the tree line, dark shadows shifted in my peripheral vision. A screech came from overhead. I looked up to see Stryx flying in tight circles over me.

“Go away,” I grumbled. Ignoring the owl, I trudged on through the trails, hoping to find another meal. Not an hour ago I was puking out my spleen, and now my body had to heal the gunshot wound. That meant blood had gone from a want to being a need.

The chill October air held the promise of rain. Under that, the city scents of trash, exhaust, and humanity were muted and mixed with the smoky aroma of fallen leaves. I slowed my pace and took a deep lungful of air. Wincing, I pressed a hand against the chest wound. The hole was already closing, entombing the bullet lodged there—a morbid souvenir of my first visit to the Big Apple.

Needing a minute, I sat on a bench near the intersection of three trails. The famous “Imagine” mosaic memorializing John Lennon lay a few feet away. Someone had left an offering of red roses in the center of the circle. All around me, trees reached up toward the inky night sky, and just beyond, the spires of New York’s cathedrals to the gods of commerce loomed.

What the fuck was I doing here? I settled back into the bench and allowed myself to wallow. Self-pity wasn’t an emotion I indulged often. It was easier to avoid wallowing when I thought I was in control of my life. But now control was the last thing I had.

When I’d agreed to come to New York with Adam, I’d been pissed off and ready to leave everything behind. My need to make my grandmother pay for betraying me was stronger than my worries over leaving everything behind. I knew mages were different from vampires, but I figured I’d adjust. I was half mage after all—how hard could it be?

But now that I was here and had my first taste of mage life, I wasn’t so sure I’d made the right decision. Maisie was nice enough, but I couldn’t help distancing myself from her. I’d thought since we were twins we’d be more alike, but the reality was we couldn’t be more different. Hell, even my minion liked her better than he liked me. Stupid fickle demon.

Plus, Adam’s departure had thrown me for a loop. I’d expected him to stay and help me adjust to mage life, but now he was gone. It wasn’t just that he wouldn’t be continuing our magic lessons. I’d grown used to having him around over the last few weeks. I’d even started to think of us as a team. Not that I’d admit that out loud. Nor did I want to discuss that kiss. Gods! What the hell was that about? I guessed in that respect it was good he was gone. It gave me some space to clear my head. But eventually, when he returned, I’d have to figure out what to do there. I had a feeling where Adam was concerned, things could get very complicated very quickly. And more complications were the last thing I needed.

I’m not sure how long I sat there before the twig snapped behind me. Another. Someone or something wasn’t worried about me knowing they were there. I stood slowly and started walking. They’d reveal themselves when they were ready—and I’d be ready for them.

“You picked the wrong woods tonight, Little Red Riding Hood.” The voice came from behind.

I turned slowly, silently cursing myself for not bringing more weapons with me. Two males stood on the path. From the corner of my eye, I saw two others come from the tree line to stand behind me. Four-to-one odds. Not too bad, I thought.

“Can I help you?” I asked, keeping my tone conversational. Inside, my adrenaline kicked up a notch. A good fight would offer the perfect distraction from my troubles.

The males I could see were shaggy and lean, with mean, thuggish faces. They reminded me of a pack of young, hungry wolves. Not a strand of red hair in the pack, so they weren’t vampires. No telltale sandalwood scent, so I knew they weren’t mages. But they definitely weren’t human.

The leader laughed. His flunkies chuckled while casting uncertain looks at him. He strolled forward, with the others getting his back. His laugh cut off as quickly as it started. “You’re poaching on our turf.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” I crossed my arms, reaching inside my jacket for the knife hidden there.

“By decree of The Shade, this here’s our official hunting ground.”

“Who the fuck is The Shade?” I demanded.

He raised a shaggy eyebrow. “The Shade’s the law. And the law says, anyone who poaches on our land deserves to be taught a lesson.”

“And who the fuck are you?”

He put his arms out and snarled. “We’re the Lone Wolves, bitch.”

Freakin’ great, I thought. Werewolves. Just what I needed. That certainly explained the eau de wet dog flying off the pack in nose-wrinkling waves. I’d never run into any weres in L.A., but I knew enough to recognize I’d just walked into a shitstorm. Again.

I shifted my weight onto my back foot. “The what?”

“Lone Wolves.” He turned to show me the back of his raggedy jacket. Sure enough, a snarling wolf face stared back at me from the leather.

“Wait a second,” I said. “Isn’t it supposed to be ‘Lone Wolf,’ as in, you know, one? If there’s more than one, then it kind of defeats the purpose of being ‘lone,’ doesn’t it?”

The leader squinted hard, as if trying to follow my logic and getting lost. “Shut up, bitch. Hold her, boys.”

Rough hands grabbed me from behind. I allowed them to do so. “Do you know who you’re messing with?” I said calmly.

“Oh, this should be good,” the leader said.

“My name is Sabina Kane.” I said this a tad more dramatically than I’d intended.

The leader blinked. “Is that supposed to mean something to me?”

I opened my mouth to tell him—what? That I used to be an assassin on the Dominae’s payroll? That I was, in fact, the granddaughter of the Alpha Dominae? What good would it do me now? Even if that information meant something to the weres, it wouldn’t do me any favors. Hell, it might even convince them to turn me over to the Dominae. They’d probably put a hefty price on my head by now.

“No, I guess it shouldn’t,” I said instead. The reminder that my old life was gone hit me hard in the gut. Looked like I was the lone wolf now. But if these assholes thought I was going to lower my neck in submission, they had a nasty surprise coming.

“Enough talk. We’re gonna show you what we do to poachers.” He nodded at the guys behind me, and their arms tightened on mine. The leader bared his teeth, which were sorely in need of a good brushing. He pulled back a fist while his buddy held me still.