He stared at me, silvery streaks wetting his face as if he cried metal instead of tears. His offspring shivered and hugged the ground. “This isn’t over,” he howled. “I will murder all that give you protection. I’ll kill the cat and I’ll devour his flesh. His magic will be mine and then I’ll come back. No ward will guard you then!”

He leaped from the porch, racing into the night, and his brood followed him.

I leaned my head against the wall. The booze made it hard to think. He didn’t die. I hadn’t expected him to. One who can weave the power words into sentences wouldn’t die from a single word.

The cat? He said he’d kill the cat. Was he talking about Jim? No, Curran, it had to be Curran. Jim wasn’t strong enough to threaten my ward. Curran was. All shapechangers had a natural resistance to warding spells. It had to do with the animal part of their nature. Curran’s resistance was the strongest. I could call Jim and warn him.

Who would believe me?

“ ‘And men my prophet wail deride!’ ” I mumbled and dragged myself to my feet.

I called Jim anyway. He didn’t answer the call and the answering machine did not pick up.

THE JOLT OF A WARD BREAKING RIPPED THROUGH my skull. My headache exploded and sleep fled.

Someone was in my house.

I slipped my hand under the pillow, found the handle of a throwing dagger, and pulled the blade free.

I lay awake, breathing quietly. Silence and dark filled the rooms. There was no need to go hunting. Whoever it was would come to me.

A man-sized shadow loomed in the hallway, a deeper darkness against the wall. It hesitated for a breath and approached. I closed my eyes, watching it through my eyelashes.

Six yards. Breathe in and breathe out.

Five.

Four. Close enough.

I hurled the dagger. The black blade spun through the air and bit into the shadow’s shoulder. Crap. Missed.

The shadow lunged for me. I went for Slayer, but the bastard was too fast. I kicked, both feet hard. The shadow swatted my kick aside and grabbed my right wrist. Steel fingers squeezed, and my hand went numb. I hit the shadow in the throat with my left hand. It growled and I found myself staring into yellow eyes.

“Let go of my hand, asshole!”

Curran let go, and I rubbed my wrist. “Damn it, don’t you know how to talk?”