“Not. Ever,” I gasped, struggling to open my mouth in spite of the pressure his grip put on my jaw.

“Anyway, I think this particular puss is more than you can handle,” Dean continued, still looking me in the chest. “She throws a hell of a left hook.”

And suddenly I remembered. Tall goon with white-blond hair and more muscles than brains. Colin Dean. The idiot Canadian import I’d knocked out in order to save Brett Malone in Montana during my trial.

“Put her down,” Alex growled. Dean shrugged, then lowered me to the floor, his hand still around my neck. Still pinning me to the wall, though my fingers pried at his.

I threw my right knee up, but he blocked it easily with his free hand. “You’re going to make me get rough, aren’t you?” The gleam in his eyes said that’s exactly what he wanted.

“You. Work. For. Malone?” I gasped.

Dean grinned. “For about a month now.”

Malone was recruiting from outside the country. The bastard was drawing neutral parties into our civil war. That could not end well.

“Let her go,” Jace ordered from the floor where he’d fallen, on the lower edge of my vision. His eyes were clear; he was back with us, thank goodness. But where the hell was Marc?

Dean laughed without turning, and Jace growled until Alex kicked him in the ribs. Jace grunted and tried to curl around his new injury, but with his limbs bound, the best he could do was pull his knees up as far as they’d go.

I tried to yell for him to leave Jace alone, but my effort ended in strangled coughing. I wasn’t pulling in enough air to shout.

“Let the poor girl breathe,” Alex ordered, and Dean’s grip loosened a little more. His blood was sticky beneath my nails, the scent fragrant, now that I could inhale properly.

But I only had eyes for Alex. “You touch him again, and I’ll kill you,” I swore, still trying to dislodge Dean’s grip.

Alex’s brows shot up. “You’d kill me over Jace?” He stepped closer to me, and Jace growled again. Alex glanced from me to him, then back to me, and when I flushed, his eyes narrowed in sudden understanding. He knelt and jerked his brother’s head back with a handful of hair, then leaned down to stage-whisper in his ear. “Are you fucking my future wife?”

Jace’s jaws bulged with fury, but he could only writhe uselessly without the use of his hands or feet. I struggled harder against Dean, kicking and clawing, but kept my mouth shut for fear of incriminating myself. Marc was probably right outside, waiting for the best time to lunge through the open door.

Alex glanced up at me. “I don’t think this is what they mean by ‘all in the family.’” He turned back to Jace. “You know I’d kill your bastard kitten while it’s still bloody, right? Just like my dad should have killed you. Guess the honor’s all mine now…” Alex pulled the hammer over his head with both hands.