He glanced up. “John, Ramona, go grab something to eat.”

The two guards left without saying a word.

“Roland has Saiman.”

Jim smiled, showing me sharp white teeth. Saiman was on Jim’s kill when not needed anymore list. Saiman might have managed to secure Friend of the Pack status for himself, but the moment he did something to piss off the Pack, he’d feel Jim’s claws around his spine and Jim’s fangs on his throat.

“He’s a resident of Atlanta, so Curran and I will retrieve him.”

“You and Curran can do whatever you like. The Pack won’t get involved. There is no benefit for us. If this is what you came to talk about, this will be a short conversation.”

Ass. “No, I’m laying the groundwork. I went to see my father, as you know.”

“You pissed him off.” Jim studied me.

Yep, the scout had reported to him already.

“Yes. He refuses to return Saiman, which forces me to act. He can’t handle the fact that I’m here and I have autonomy. He’s unable to deal with another authority, especially because I’m his daughter.”

“I’m still waiting to hear how any of this concerns me.”

“The Witch Oracle has been looking into the future repeatedly, over the past month. They predict a war. It will go one of two ways. One, my father kills Curran, the Pack is slaughtered, the city burns, the witches die.”

His face betrayed no emotion.

“Two, my father kills my son. Impales him on a spear. The Pack is slaughtered, the city burns, the witches die. I saw the visions. Hell on Earth is coming.” I leaned back. “We have four weeks before the first possibility might come to pass.”

Silence lay between us, heavy like a brick.

“Do you have a plan?” he asked.

“Yes. I need my aunt’s blood and bones.”

“Why?”

“So I can take them to Mishmar.”

He stared at me. A muscle jerked in his temple. Oh no. I’ve given the Beast Lord apoplexy. That seemed to be my calling in life.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m trying to decide if I really heard what you said or if somehow my brain quit on me and I hallucinated.”

“Take your time.”

“Mishmar. Your father’s hellish prison he cobbled together from the remains of office buildings from Omaha, which he destroyed. The Mishmar that’s stuffed to the brink with mutated vampires. That Mishmar.”

“Yes.”

“You barely got out alive from Mishmar the last time, and you had Curran, me, two alphas, one of the best fighters in the Pack, the best Master of the Dead in Atlanta, and Nasrin, the miracle-working medmage. You even had a guide. We still barely escaped.”

“I’m not going in deep. Only to my grandmother’s body.”

“Okay, I’ll bite. Why?”