Asil smiled wickedly and deftly avoided her gaze—dominant werewolf instincts to stare down everyone they meet are all wrong when it comes to vampires. Vampires can capture most people’s minds with their gaze. That is what allows them to hunt people and not get caught. The Moor was apparently aware of vampire eye tricks.

“I like you,” Marsilia said to him. “You are pretty.”

“I like you, too,” said Asil. “Vampires are an acquired taste.” He smiled, with white teeth showing.

She frowned.

“Marsilia,” said Stefan, stepping out of the darkness. “You distract yourself.”

She didn’t look at him, didn’t take her eyes off Asil, just angled her head a little toward Stefan. “And if I do? What is the harm?”

“Mercy might kill you before anyone else gets a chance.” Stefan sounded bored.

Marsilia flashed her fangs at me with sudden rage. “Do you think you can kill me, little coyote?” Her voice deepened, and her eyes no longer looked black. “Do you think I am so easy?”

“Hey,” I told those brilliant red eyes. “I’m not the one making threats. But if you try to do something to my wolves, you’ll have to go through me to do it.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Asil smile, just a little.

“Your wolf would enjoy it,” Marsilia said, evidently dismissing Asil’s earlier remark as admiration rather than a threat. More fool her. “You should let him make his own choice.”

I stepped between her and Asil. “Leave him alone, Marsilia.” Not that Asil couldn’t defend himself. Until that moment, I hadn’t realized that I’d quit fearing Asil somewhere along the way and started liking him. Not that he couldn’t still go crazy and kill me—but I grew up with werewolves. Any werewolf can kill you if you are stupid and quit respecting him. The trick is not to be stupid.

“She takes care of what is hers, Marsilia. You should learn from her,” Stefan said silkily.

“Are you trying to get me killed?” I asked him coolly, as Marsilia hissed. “We were actually almost having a conversation before you stepped in to help.”

He laughed, sounding a lot more like himself. “Is that what you thought you were doing? I heard Marsilia trying to take your new wolf from you.”

Asil smiled again, with teeth, but he didn’t say anything.

“No,” I told Stefan. “She wasn’t. She just thought she was.”

Marsilia shook her head—and changed before my eyes. Not physically, not a change of shape, but a change of personality. Gone was the sex goddess, the vicious woman who hated and despised me. Instead, she looked—ordinary, tired, and … and maybe a little scared.

“You are right, Stefan,” she said. “I am sorry, Mercedes. Tonight, we need to be allies.”

Marsilia had just apologized to me. Hell must have been experiencing some climate change.