I launched as hard as I could, spinning fast enough to leave me dizzy. The heel of my foot caught the bag just below the top edge, as it was supposed to. If the sandbag had been a person I'd have broken his neck. I might even have landed on my feet.

The chain that suspended the bag kept it from falling back the way a person would have, and I hadn't expected the force I generated: I landed bruisingly hard on my butt.

I lay back quickly, flat on the floor, but Adam caught the bag before it could swing back and hit me. He whistled softly as sand started sifting down from a small tear in the seam of the bag. "Nice kick."

"Adam," I said staring up at the ceiling, "he saved her for dessert."

"What? Saved whom?"

"The maid. Littleton saved her like a kid hoarding his chocolate Easter bunny. He put the maid in the bathroom, out of sight, because he didn't want to kill her too soon. He was waiting for Stefan." There were other reasons he could have stashed her in the bathroom—like he'd fed already on the other people he'd killed—but there had been something in his face when he'd brought her out that had said, "at last."

"Was he waiting for Stefan in particular? Or for whoever Marsilia sent?" asked Adam, seeing the important part of it before I did.

I thought of how much Littleton seemed to know about Stefan, intimate things, though Stefan had never met him. But it was more than what he'd said that made me certain, it was the way he'd seemed so pleased—as if everything was happening as expected.

"For Stefan," I said, then continued to the obvious question. "I wonder who told him Stefan was coming?"

"I'll call Warren and tell him you think someone told Littleton Stefan was coming for him," Adam said. "Stefan will have a better idea how Littleton might have found out, and if it means he has a traitor in his camp."

I stayed where I was while Adam got the phone off the wall and began punching buttons.

We'd spent years as adversaries, two predators sharing territory and a certain, unwelcome attraction. Somehow, during all those years I spent outwardly acquiescing to his demands while making sure I held my own, I'd won his respect. I'd had werewolves love me and hate me, but I'd never had one respect me before. Not even Samuel.

Adam respected me enough to act on my suspicions. It meant a lot.