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I moved my gaze from the choking sky to Goodfellow's still face and said quietly, "Thanks, Robin. For what you did." I almost said, "For what I couldn't do," but that would've been a lie. If I'd known as the puck had that it was the only way, I would've done it. Not as well, not as efficiently, but I would've done it and lived with the consequences. It hadn't happened that way, though. The consequences weren't mine to claim.

Robin didn't acknowledge the thanks. After tipping the bottle again, he said without emotion, "Find the crown." He started down the sidewalk. "Find George." Unspoken was the message: That will make it worthwhile. Hell, it might even make it bearable.

Chapter 12

I was a hawk. Soaring high. Streetlights swung beneath me, bold as fireflies. The wind was a rushing current around me, gloating in my ear, plucking at my clothes. The sliver of a moon swam pumpkin orange off to my left, magnified in the warm air. I could've stretched out a hand to touch it.

Flying.

Only I wasn't.

A hand as big as my head held me by the throat and dangled me over the edge of the warehouse roof. Eyes the same pumpkin orange as the moon studied me with the clinical interest of a vivisectionist.

The day hadn't started out quite this crappy. I'd spent it in the warehouse, keeping my head down. It was a good idea, especially with the flying body parts. Robin had been right. Cerberus, arriving in his limo, had pinned the succubus' death on the revenant quickly enough. The rest of the day had been spent mopping up the mess and staying out of Cerberus's way. His mood, needless to say, wasn't good. Not that there was undying love between the succubus and him. She'd been convenient sex to him, nothing more. But that didn't matter. He owned her, and someone had dared pick his pocket. No Alpha was going to appreciate that. The sounds that had come from his office at various intervals had most of the wolves lurking by the door for a quick getaway. Roars of rage and the sound of furniture shattering against the walls didn't make for ideal working conditions. And then there had been the silence. No one knew whether to be relieved or even more panicked than they already were.

Finally, the day passed. We survived, although poor damn Mishka probably had serious doubts as to whether he wanted to. There were no jobs lined up for the coming hours and eventually the place had emptied. Cerberus remained in his office, but had calmed down enough to engage in a little cleanup of his own. I couldn't believe revenants tasted that great, but each to his own, right? He would eat; I would search. Simple. And it had really seemed that way up until the point where he caught me midsearch and pulled me from the car and tossed me bodily over it.

"Bastard thief." The words had followed me over. Apparently it was all right to steal for Cerberus, but not from him. It was when he attempted to show me just how not all right it was that I got up off my ass and ran. I left the crown. It had been in the limo after all. Under a seat. What was valuable enough to cost George her life had been discarded like trash. I could picture the succubus tossing it on the floor in a fit of spoiled pique. The jewels weren't large enough, not precious enough, weren't the right color. It wasn't flashy at all. I'd held it in my hand for nearly a full second before I'd been yanked out of the car. A simple circle of reddish gold set with the occasional onyx, it wasn't especially feminine or attractive. In fact, it looked almost… utilitarian. For one brief second I thought I felt it pulse under my hand, a single, warm heartbeat. But then it was gone—flying from my hand as I did the same from Cerberus's.

It was still down there, lying on the warehouse floor. I was counting on Niko to grab it on his way up. Not that up had been the best decision I'd ever made, but I hadn't had much choice. Cerberus had been on me fast and furious. I hadn't had time to draw my gun in the face of his unnerving speed, much less pelt across the warehouse to the front door. The stairs up had been my closest choice. Now that choice had me dangling off a building.

Not so long ago while climbing a Ferris wheel, I'd thought that I didn't have a fear of heights. As my feet kicked in empty space, I decided I might just change my mind.

"An Auphe."

"I would've been better off hiring a piranha." The heads weren't speaking the distorted words to me. No, they spoke to themselves—muzzles nearly touching, fangs half again as long as my hand dripping dark brown saliva that fell like rain. Cerberus was easily twice as large as any wolf I'd seen, maybe three times. He'd retained just enough control of his human form to remain upright. His shoulders hulked, mountain wide, under fur so black that it was nearly lost in the night. He towered almost eight feet tall; the chest was broad and made to store oxygen to feed that massive body. Legs as thick as my waist were banded with the breadth of muscle that could propel their owner unbelievable lengths. The fingers that curled around my neck were rough with callous pads thickened from years of running. The claws were jetty, curved like fishhooks, and every bit as long as the fingers. Oh yeah, and they were piercing my flesh. Fun, fun. I could feel the warmth of blood on my neck. It wasn't much blood, probably not even a tea-spoon. It didn't raise my hopes. What Cerberus had in store for me was much worse than a torn-out throat.

Abruptly, the hand dangling me over the edge shook me hard enough that I felt the vertebrae in my neck howl in protest and spots spilled across my sight. They were orange too, the spots. But through them I could still make out Cerberus. As looming as a god and inescapable as the inevitability of mortal death, he blocked out the sky, blocked out the world. Breath, hot and rank with the stench of raw flesh, passed over my face and neck… He was a predator searching for the softest and most tasty portion. My skin tightened in instinctive withdrawal. I tried to hang on to the thought that behind me, on the roof, was Niko's knife, its glass shattered. Not that I could see it, but I knew it was there.

Hoped it was there.

I'd dropped the dagger full of ingenious electronics that Niko had given me… the "My ass is in deep shit" device. I hadn't heard it hit the asphalt of the flat warehouse roof. The sound had been lost in the bass roar that had literally vibrated the framework of my chest, my ribs resonating under my flesh. The hunting cry of Cerberus, it was intended to paralyze your legs, freeze your bowels, and loose your bladder. And it might have worked—it would have worked—on someone who hadn't lived through the Auphe. Me? I just ran faster. But as fast as I could run, Cerberus could run a hundred times faster. One leap and then another and he was on me. I'd zigzagged to one side, sliding in the tar crumble beneath my feet, only to be snatched up… a child in the grip of a grizzly bear. Of course, not many toddlers pack a gun that could easily be strapped on a tank and used as a cannon.

Still half-blind, I scrabbled desperate fingers for the .50 Magnum under my jacket. "A toy.'" Twin maws pulled back from my throat to stretch in silently mocking laughter. "You threaten me with a toy. Shall I make you eat your toy, Auphe? Ram it down your traitorous throat inch by inch?" I was shaken again as the change-defiled voice ground on. "Or shall I put it elsewhere? Not inch by inch, but all at once."

I didn't need any encouragement to get to my gun faster. I'd seen what he'd done to Fenrik, a fierce opponent. I'd both seen and smelled what he'd done to the revenant earlier today. Less fierce, but the damn things were nearly impossible to kill. Revenants could regrow nearly any part, including their head. Their brains, assuming they had any, were obviously kept elsewhere. To kill a revenant you practically needed a tree shredder. Cerberus had done the job with teeth and claws, and he'd done it in under fifteen seconds. A wolf of some serious talent, my former boss, and now he was turning that talent to me. And when he said he was going to take my gun, shove it up my ass, and pull the trigger, I tended to believe him.