She made a clucking sound with her tongue and thrust her bottom lip out. “You’re still angry. Over her.”

“No,” Darius corrected. “I don’t feel anger anymore. I don’t feel anything at all. I am quite content on my own.”

“All this time? You haven’t fed?” She shook her head in wonder and laughed, the sound brittle. “Fool.” Smiling, she tilted her head, gaze narrowing thoughtfully. “And have you found salvation yet, Brother Darius?”

Darius didn’t answer.

“Of course not.” Her smile melted away and she gestured to the fallen two, her gaze drilling into Darius. “You’ll stand by and watch this human annihilate us?”

“No,” Darius responded quickly.

She smiled in satisfaction, but Gideon glimpsed the hint of relief behind that smile. She extended a hand to Darius, elegant fingers curling in a beckoning wave. “Welcome home, my love. I’ve missed you.”

Darius plucked the gun from his hand. Before Gideon had time to react, Darius pulled the trigger.

“Sorry I can’t say the same,” he replied, his voice flat.

Jesslyn fell to her knees, a hand pressing over the hole in her chest—as if she could staunch the blood blooming on her cotton print dress. “Darius?” she whispered, her look bewildered.

“I haven’t come to watch him kill my old pack.” Stepping closer, he pressed the gun to her forehead. “I’ve come to help.” Then he pulled the trigger. Her body jerked and hit the ground in a soft thud. Turning, he tossed the gun to Gideon. “Better reload. They know we’re here.”

Gideon reloaded and tossed it back to him. “Looks like you’re going to need one, too.”

Pulling out a second gun, he stepped around the bodies. They resumed walking down the hall, opening every door they came to, systematically searching the rooms, closets, and adjoining bathrooms.

“Is it possible he’s not here?” Gideon asked as he opened yet another door, this one leading to a linen closet. They had to find Cyril. Cyril was the key.

“Oh, he’s here. Lying in wait.” Darius nodded grimly. “I can feel him.”

They descended the stairs, stopping before a large sunken living room. Empty. A large rock fireplace dominated the corner of the room. Gideon motioned with his gun to the large sectional couch. Darius nodded in understanding. They moved to opposite ends of the couch and peered over it. Nothing but carpet.

Gideon heard a strange scrabbling sound and looked over his shoulder. Nothing. But the sound grew louder. He swung around the precise moment a lycan dropped down into the hearth from inside the chimney, stirring up a huge cloud of soot. With an inhuman shriek, he launched himself on Darius.

Coughing through the foul air, Gideon squinted and aimed, praying he didn’t miss.