My protector was too thin, too unkempt, but my nose told me that he was Stefan almost before my brain knew to ask the question. Unwashed vampire is better than unwashed human, but it is not pleasant, either.

“No,” Stefan said, his voice soft, but Ford cried out, and Rachel let out a squeak of sound.

“I’m all right, Stefan,” I told him, rolling stiffly to hands and knees. But he ignored me.

“We don’t harm our guests,” Stefan said, and Ford whimpered.

I stood up, ignoring the protest of sore shoulders and hip. I’d have bruises tomorrow, but nothing worse thanks to sensei’s sometimes brutal how-to-fall sessions. The piano looked like it would survive our encounter as well.

“It wasn’t Ford’s fault,” I said loudly. “He’s just trying to do your job.” I don’t know if it was true or not; I suspected Ford was just crazy. But I was willing to try anything to get Stefan’s attention.

Still crouched between Ford and me, Stefan turned his head to look at me. His eyes were cold and hungry, and he gazed at me as though I were a complete stranger.

Better monsters than he had tried to cow me, so I didn’t even flinch.

“You’re supposed to be taking care of these people,” I snapped at him. Okay, so he did scare me, which is why I was snippy. Get-scared-and-get-mad wasn’t always smart. I, raised in a pack of werewolves, certainly knew better. But looking at Stefan and what had happened to his home made me want to cry—and I’d rather get scared and mad than do that. If Stefan thought I pitied him, he’d never let me help. Criticism was easy to take.

“Look at her—” I gestured toward Rachel, and I gestured toward Rachel, and

Stefan’s gaze followed my hand in response to the command in my voice, command I was just learning to borrow from Adam. There were a few perks to being the Alpha werewolf’s mate.

Stefan jerked his gaze back to me as soon as he realized what I’d done, baring his fangs in a way that reminded me more of one of the werewolves than a vampire. But the snarl died from his face, and he looked at Rachel again.

The tension eased from his shoulders, and he looked down at Ford. I couldn’t see the big man’s face, but his body language clearly said

“surrender” to my pack-trained sight.

“Merda,” said Stefan, releasing his hold on Ford.

“Stefan?”

The menace was gone from his face, but so was all trace of any emotion. He appeared almost dazed.