The black-bearded man approached the door on the left side of the room and held it open for me. “Please.”

I made my exit.

We walked side by side through a winding corridor, the man with the black beard and I. “My name is Mahon,” the man said. His deep voice held the slight burr of a Scottish accent.

“Nice to meet you,” I murmured mechanically.

“It would have been much nicer under different circumstances,” he chuckled.

“Knowing the extent of the Pack’s welcome, I would’ve preferred Unicorn Lane.”

“You must understand that Curran can’t permit anyone to take something that’s his. If he allows it to happen, his authority would come into question and some’d ask if you couldn’t do the same thing to him as you did to Derek.”

“I’m aware of the Pack’s mechanics,” I said.

“And you are an outsider. The Pack is distrustful of outsiders.”

“I’m a human outsider. The Pack treated me as if I were a loner. With Curran’s permission.” Very rarely, a shapechanger chose to follow the Code in his own way, refusing the Pack. Such individuals were called loners. They were the ultimate outsiders, treated by the Pack with suspicion and dislike.

Mahon inclined his head, supporting my assessment of the situation. “Curran never does anything without a reason,” he said. “I was told you’d met him. Perhaps you indirectly challenged him at that meeting.”

Indirectly? I had challenged him deliberately.

“Your knowledge of our customs is unusual,” he continued. “For a human outsider. How did you come by this information?” His voice promised no confrontation.

“My father,” I said.

“A man of the Code?”

“In his own way. Not your Code but his own.”

“You’ve learned well.”

“No,” I said. “He taught me well. I was difficult.”

“Children can be sometimes,” he said.

We stopped before a door.

“Do you need some ointment for your arm?”

I looked at the angry red welt marring my skin. “No. Unless you catch it right away, the ointment won’t do any good. But I appreciate the offer.” I shook my head. “Tell me, do you always pacify irate guests of the Pack?”

He opened the door. “Sometimes. I suppose I have a calming influence on misbehaving children. Please.”

I stepped through the door and he closed it behind me. The room was small. A single lamp threw a sharp cone of light onto a table in its center. Two chairs stood by the table, the farther one occupied by a man. He had purposefully positioned himself so the light was turned away from him.

The setup reminded me of the spy movies from my childhood.

“Finessed you, didn’t he?” the man said. His voice had a scratchy quality to it. “I bet another ten minutes and you ready to apologize.”