It was a prime piece of real estate. Close enough to commute to the city but remote and private enough that no one would note any suspicious comings and goings. Leaving the property uncleared had been a deliberate move. It took half an hour to reach the house through the heavy undergrowth.

The woods finally gave way to reveal a rambling structure that looked more like a dormitory than a house.

Gideon dropped to his stomach and crawled as close as he dared to the compound. “There.” He pointed to a second-story window positioned above an outside air-conditioning unit. That was their way in.

Darius crawled up beside him and nodded in unspoken agreement.

Two lycans chatted beneath the front portico—one male, one female. They looked almost normal, pushing back and forth on a swing, chatting companionably. At one point the female laughed, throwing back her head in delight. The sound rose over the locusts and slithered through the air.

Darius tensed beside him. He pointed to the woman. “That’s Jesslyn.”

Gideon eyed Darius, noting his stony expression. The tight compression of his lips said it all. “Old friends?”

Darius nodded. “She was a prize breeder for the pack three hundred years ago.”

“Doubtful she still is,” Gideon observed, knowing a female lycan’s fertility had a limit. It varied, but most were purported to breed for only two to three hundred years.

Darius cut him a sharp glance. “You’ve done your homework.”

“It’s part of the job.”

“Saving would-be lycans part of the job, too?”

Gideon shrugged, uncomfortable discussing Claire with a lycan who wanted her for himself. He felt the old familiar scorn surfacing. He didn’t fully understand why Darius chose to lead an atypical existence, but it was too late for him. Darius was damned. He had murdered countless innocents. There was no redemption in store for him.

“Jesslyn was a particular favorite of Cyril’s. At least when I—” Darius stopped and shook his head.

A sneaking suspicion began to take root that Darius’s past was tied up with Cyril and this pack.

To verify, he asked, “Anything you need to tell me before we go in there?”

“Yes. I want to take her and Cyril out myself.”

Gideon cocked a brow. “Bad blood, huh?”

“I owe them.”

“How’s that?”