The boy smiled fiercely. “They don’t want to kill me,” he said. “They want to figure out why I can work fire. They want to know why Underhill likes me better than she likes them. Why she played games with me while leaving them out in the cold for all these centuries. They want to know everything I know about Underhill because they’ve forgotten what they used to know.”

From the expression on his face, I was pretty sure that “played games with me” might have the same meaning to Underhill that it would to Coyote.

“That which does not kill us makes us stronger,” I quoted.

“Nietzsche?” murmured Zee. “Appropriate. Also, perhaps this one: Wer mit Ungeheuern kämpft, mag zusehn, daß er nicht dabei zum Ungeheuer wird.”

I dragged out my college German and came up with a few words. Ungeheuern was “monsters.” Kämpft was “battles.” “Let he who battles with monsters take care lest he become one?” I translated out loud.

Aiden gave the old fae a smile with teeth. “We are all monsters here,” he said. “It’s too late for any of us to be anything else.”

His words sent a flinch through far too many of the pack, including Adam. “That depends,” I said.

He looked at me with mild inquiry.

“On your definition of ‘monster,’” said Tad. “Who do you allow to tell you what you are? Monster or angel, it’s in the eye of the beholder, surely.”

“Why . . .” I started to ask, then stopped. Aiden had told me why the fae wanted him. He knew things they had forgotten, secrets about Underhill. And they were jealous because she kept him and gave him power. Any of which, I thought, would be reason enough for the fae to want him.

He’d helped Tad and Zee escape. I owed him—and I wouldn’t have left anyone I could help at the mercy of the fae. As a last precaution, I tried to get permission from Adam, but either he didn’t hear me (most likely) or he wanted me to make the decision, because he didn’t answer.

“Twenty-four hours,” I said abruptly. “If you do not harm one who is pack or who belongs to the pack. If you obey the pack leaders as the pack itself does. Those leaders are Adam who is our Alpha, myself, Darryl”—I gave a general wave to Darryl, who had returned sometime during the Nietzsche discussion—“Warren”—Warren nodded as I looked toward him—“and Honey, who is not here. For twenty-four hours, we’ll grant you sanctuary in the pack stronghold—with the option to renew this agreement.”

I almost missed it, the faint widening of his eyes and the almost imperceptible loosening of his shoulders. Relief. Far more obvious was the rise of outrage from the wolves—that I would risk their lives for a stranger, that I had overstepped my authority. I couldn’t tell which wolves were spearheading it, my pack sense was not that clear at the moment. Maybe all of them were unhappy.