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"Should I have any reason to remember you?"

This time, the amusement reached his thin lips. "I would think you'd remember the wolf who threw you off a mountain side."

Shock rolled through me. Oh my God…

Blake.

My grandfather's second in command, and the wolf who would have killed us if he could. The wolf who almost had when he'd thrown me off that cliff. Ostensibly to teach Rhoan a lesson about never back-chatting the pack second.

Hate followed the shock, swirling through me thick and sharp. I clenched my fists, and found myself fighting the sudden urge to run forward and punch the cold amusement from his thin lips. He wasn't real, he wasn't here, and I'd only look like a fool. So I simply said, voice low and venomous, "What right have you got to call me?"

"My right is pack given."

"The Jenson pack ceded its rights over me and Rhoan when they kicked us out."

"Pack rights are never surrendered, no matter what the situation or current politics. Once a pack member, always a pack member."

"You threatened to kill us if you ever saw us again."

"A statement that still stands."

"So why the hell are you contacting me? Fuck off and leave me alone. Trust me, I want as little to do with you as you do me."

I turned on my heel and began to walk back down the beach, away from him. Part of me might have been curious as to why he was suddenly contacting me, but curiosity didn't have a hope against old anger and hurt. None of which I wanted to relive many way.

"You will listen to what I have to say, Riley."

"Fuck off," I said without looking at him. Even as my wolf cowered deep within at my audacity.

"You will stop and listen, young wolf."

His voice was sharp and powerful, seeming to echo through the trees and ring in my ears. I stopped. I couldn't help it. My very DNA was patterned with the need to obey my alpha. It would take a great deal of will and strength to dare disobey, and right now, it seemed I had neither.

Even so, I didn't turn around. Didn't look at him. "Why the hell should I listen?"

"Because I demand it."

I snorted softly. "I was never one to listen to demands. You of all people should know that."

"So very true. And it was one of the reasons you and your brother were ostracized." Amusement laced his harsh tones. "Your grandfather feared you would challenge him."

Surprise rippled through me. I swung around. He was still in the trees, still in the shadows. Maybe the wind meant coming out onto the beach wasn't practical for a man who was little more than spirit. "Why would my grandfather fear that? Neither Rhoan nor I were never allowed the illusion we were anything more than an inconvenience to our mother and the pack. And inconveniences don't rule." Especially if they were female. Or gay.

"You have a long pattern of doing the unexpected, Riley."

"Yeah, and I have the scars to prove the foolishness of that."

He grinned. It was a harsh, cruel thing to see. "You never did learn your place."

Oh, I learned it all right. I just didn't always cower clown like I was supposed to. I thrust my hands on my hips and said impatiently, "As much as I just adore reliving old times with you, it's fucking cold out here. Tell me what you want or just piss off and leave me alone."

He studied me for a minute, green eyes abnormally bright in the darkness, his form waving slightly as the wind swirled through the trees.

"The pack needs your help."

"You want my help?" My sudden, unbelieving laugh was a cold and ugly sound. "That has to be the joke of the century, doesn't it?"

"There is nothing amusing about the situation, believe me."

"So why me? There has to be hundreds of others of people you could ask."

Which wasn't an overstatement. The Jenson pack might be one of the smaller red packs, and it might be the poorer cousin when it comes to wealth and land status, but Jenson pack members were to be found in all avenues of government and throughout much of the legal system. I had no doubt those pack members could muster up something—someone—far more influential than anything I could manage.

Amusement flared briefly in his eyes. "We have need of your guardian skills."

Again surprise rippled through me. "And how would you know I was a guardian? Why would you even bother keeping track of two outcast and useless pups?"

"We didn't. It came to my attention during investigations."

"Investigations into what?"

He shifted his weight and his form wavered, briefly becoming as insubstantial as a ghost. Which he wasn't, so how in the hell was he projecting himself?

"My granddaughter, Adrianne, disappeared a week ago."

He had a granddaughter? Good lord, that made me feel old. Though in wolf terms, I was still very much a youngster. "Which of your sons was careless enough to lose a daughter?"

It was a cruel thing to say, but I just couldn't help it. Blake and his sons had been the banes of my existence while growing up—and the reason behind many of the scars Rhoan and I now had. Of course, if I'd just shut my mouth and bowed down like I was supposed to, things might have been different.

Though I very much doubt it.

His gaze narrowed to thin slits of dangerous green. "Adrianne is Patrin's oldest."

The image of a red wolf with black points came to mind, and my lip curled in response. Patrin was the youngest of Blake's get, and only a few years older than me. To say he delighted in following the family tradition of hassling the half-breeds would be the understatement of the century.

"How old is the daughter?"

"Nineteen."

Nineteen? Meaning he'd been fifteen when he'd sired his first? Randy bastard. But I bet daddy had been so proud, especially given the pack's inherent fertility problems.

"If she's missing, contact the police. The Directorate doesn't do missing."

"You do if there appears to be a pattern in the disappearances. Thirteen people have disappeared the same way as Adrianne, Riley."

I crossed my arms and tried to ignore the pulse of interest. I didn't want to get involved with Blake or our pack, because it could only ever end badly—for me, not for them.

"Then contact the Directorate. Given them the information. There's nothing I could do without the official go-ahead anyway."

Which was a only a teeny-tiny lie. If I was so inclined, I could investigate just about anything. Guardians were the super-cops, the hunter-killers, of the non-human world, and we had free rein to investigate where we willed. Though if I did investigate, and did find something, I'd have to report it back to my boss. A full investigation could only go ahead with his official approval.

"All I'm asking you to do is an initial investigation. If you feel there's nothing the Directorate can do, then I'll try other sources."

He sounded all together too reasonable all of a sudden, and my hackles rose. Blake and reason just didn't sit well with my memories of the man. "You were ordering me a few moments ago."

"Perhaps I'm seeing the error of my ways."

"And perhaps tomorrow they'll put a woman on Mars." I shifted from one foot to the other. I wasn't trusting this new and improved Blake to last more than a second, but it didn't hurt to play along anyway. "Why do you think her disappearance is a Directorate matter?"

"There's a pattern. For a start, they all stayed at Monitor island for more than a week."

"And?"

"And they all disappeared within a week of returning… "