The light changed, and I held my breath until I was sure David wasn’t going to dart around the truck ahead of us, but the usually über-safety-conscious Were just fumed at the slow acceleration. “Believe me,” I said softly, “if there was a way I could give it to the Weres, I would, but it’s demon-crafted, and all it’s going to do is cause problems. Change is needed, but slow, not fast. Otherwise…” I thought of his girlfriend’s pain.

“A Were should hide it, then,” he offered.

“Who, David?” I demanded, frustrated, and Jenks’s wings shifted nervously. “You? We tried that. Mr. Ray? Mrs. Sarong? How about Vincent? He had three packs bound to him, and they were savage. Every one of them channeling the power of an alpha but lacking the restraint that evolved with the alpha position.”

Silently his jaw clenched, and I continued. “You don’t become an alpha, you’re born that way. They couldn’t handle it. Change has to come slow. It’s like your girlfriend trying to Were without the mental and physical cushion a thousand years of evolution gave you.”

David’s grip on the wheel eased, and I relaxed. “Maybe it’s not time yet?” I said softly, bracing myself as he made a quick right into his apartment complex.

“Ah, that doesn’t look good,” Jenks said, and David’s face went empty of emotion. I followed their gazes to the parking lot, and my stomach sank. There were two I.S. cruisers, three from the FIB, and a multispecies ambulance.

“It’s okay,” I said, reaching for my seat belt. “I don’t think they’re at your apartment.”

Saying nothing, David pulled up as close as he could get, fumbling with his seat belt, swearing until it released. “It’s my apartment. My curtains were closed. They’re open now. And Serena couldn’t be awake yet.” Leaving the keys in the ignition, he lurched out of the car, steps crisp and intent as he headed for his door.

I slowly got out to stand wedged between the car and the open door, my arms on the roof. Jenks landed on my shoulder, and we said nothing when an I.S. officer stopped David on the threshold. They spoke briefly, and I felt sick as the man cuffed him. David looked broken but offered no resistance, knowing that to fight would give them a reason to throw him in a cell and forget about him to the limit of the law.

Someone moved past the upstairs window, and I gripped my bag tighter, glad I had the focus, since the I.S. was taking the opportunity to search David’s apartment. His cat was watching me from a second window, and it skittered away before a dark figure passed by it. “What are we going to do, Jenks?” I whispered.