Nick crouched next to me. “Back in Washington, I tracked him down to the Shrine of the Gorgon. He’d helped himself to the priestesses and slaughtered the priests, but before Archiereus of the shrine died, he told me how to kill him. But I need my tools. Help me make it out of here, and I’ll come back with a weapon to fight him.”

“Why not just tell Curran?”

He shook his head. “The Beast Lord won’t listen. He’s got tunnel vision: keep the Pack safe. He won’t let me out.”

“Tell me,” I said.

“Will you help me?”

“Tell me first and I’ll do what I can.”

Nick leaned toward me. “Bone of prey,” he whispered. “You kill him with bone.”

“I’ll help,” I said. “But while you’re out, I need you to do me a favor. Bring me a present, Nick.”

CURRAN LOOKED AT ME. HE WASN’T GIVING ME A hard stare. He was just looking at me with no expression at all.

“Where’s the Crusader?” he asked. His voice was level.

“He needed some ‘me’ time,” I said. “I might be wrong, but I don’t think he’s a team player.”

There were seven of us in the room: Curran, Jim in his jaguar shape, Mahon, two lupine sentries, the stable master, and me. The sentries and the stable master looked decidedly uncomfortable. Their eyes still watered from the wolfsbane and the left sentry had a full-blown allergic reaction, complete with red rash and a running nose he probably desperately wanted to wipe. If it wasn’t for Curran, he might have made a mad dash for the handkerchief, but the Beast Lord’s presence kept him rooted at attention, and so he just stood there, both faucets dripping.

Curran nodded calmly, feigning understanding. He was too composed for my liking. In his place I would’ve exploded. I flexed my wrist lightly, feeling the edge of the leather bracer full of silver needles rub against my skin. Mahon had politely requested to hold Slayer for me while Curran and I had our little talk. Just as well. It’s not like I could kill Curran now. Should. It’s not like I should kill Curran now. I could always try. Later.

The Beast Lord crossed his arms on his chest. His face looked placid. Calm before the storm . . .

The jaguar at my feet tensed and tried to look smaller. Nick needed a bit of a distraction while he rode like a bat out of hell on the horse commandeered from the Pack stables. I’d provided that distraction by leading Jim and his posse of pissy shapechangers on a merry chase through the countryside.

“Just so we’re clear,” Curran said. “You did understand that I didn’t wish you or the Crusader to leave Keep?”

“Yes.”

“That’s what I thought,” Curran said.