“It will heal in a couple of days. Is there anything else you wanted?”

“Yes. We have reason to believe that the creatures who attacked Desandra are hiding here in the castle. We’ve developed a blood test that lets us identify these creatures.”

Vitaliy, Radomil, and Ivanna stared at me, their faces so carefully neutral that it had to be a controlled exertion of will.

“Would you be willing to provide us with a blood sample?”

“No,” Vitaliy said slowly. “Blood has too much power.”

“We don’t want to be cursed.” Radomil shook his head.

“Thank you for coming,” Ivanna said. “You’re not a bad person. We’re sorry your man is being so unfair.”

We left. As we walked away, Mahon rested his hand on my shoulder. It was a quiet, almost fatherly gesture.

“Did you see their faces?” I asked.

“We got a reaction,” Barabas said. “I don’t know what it means, but we got one.”

Jarek Kral was my last stop. The Obluda pack occupied the northern side of the castle. I knew exactly what was coming.

“He’ll try to provoke you,” Barabas said.

“I know.” If I gave Jarek any pretext to attack me, he would be overjoyed.

“Don’t react, Kate,” Barabas murmured.

“I know.”

“If he touches you, you can touch back,” Mahon said.

Oh yes. I will. You can be sure I will.

We turned the corner. A long hallway unrolled before us, the light from the windows painting light rectangles on the floor. Men milled about in the hallway. One, two . . . twelve. Jarek had pulled most of his pack out of their beds to give me a proper welcome.

Jarek’s shapeshifters stared at me. Some openly leered. A dark-haired, older shapeshifter on the left stuck his tongue out and wiggled it. Wasn’t he a charmer.

Your tongue’s too long. Come closer, I’ll fix it for you.

I kept walking, Barabas and Mahon behind me. The anger and hurt inside me crystallized into an icy cage. I hid inside it, using it as my armor. Whatever punches Jarek Kral threw at me, they wouldn’t breach it. The ice was too thick.

As we moved through the hallway, the shapeshifters fell in behind us. Someone whistled. Someone catcalled. I kept walking.

Ahead an arch offered a view of a large room. A familiar grouping of cushioned seats and coffee tables waited—Hugh clearly believed that if a furniture set did its job, there was no reason to get creative. Jarek Kral sprawled on the love seat, watching me walk toward him. His inner circle flanked the seat. A tall blond—one of the two brothers who followed Jarek around—an older man with a shaved head and muscles like a heavyweight prizefighter, and Renok, my buddy, dark-haired, with a short beard, and a deep inborn viciousness in his eyes.

This would be interesting.