Once, Garth, Vaughan, and Voss had been an inseparable trio with both males vying for Voss’ affection. The vampire was perhaps the least affectionate person Victor had ever met. Now that Vaughan was out of the way, Garth had an opening with her. He hadn’t found her, though, so it didn’t matter.

Victor brought his lieutenant up to speed, detailing everything that occurred since Lenny’s death. Though he didn’t say it, Garth knew Victor had been the one to put a bullet through the former attorney’s head.

“Are we sure she’s only a witch?” the werewolf asked after Victor finished. He popped open a bottle of whiskey and served himself a full glass.

“That’s what I would like to find out. It was the reason I wanted to meet her face-to-face.”

Garth swirled the liquid in his glass before drinking. “I have a hard time believing someone as capable as her of being only a witch. If she is, she’s a damn powerful one.”

“She’s not as capable as you think, Garth.” Victor’s voice was nearly a growl.

Garth raised a brow. “That’s not what it sounded like when you were bitching about all her exploits a minute ago.”

Victor was ready to flip the table on his lieutenant. The only thing holding him back was his need for Garth’s skill. He didn’t know a better fighter or werewolf. Garth had led Project Pack 013’s development, given insight into how a powerful werewolf’s body operated.

Unlike normal werewolves, Garth was able to help them create something that could remain in wolf form despite the day or time. These creatures were bigger, stronger, and had more enhanced senses. If they worked as Victor hoped, they’d become killing machines.

The project proved to the Titan that Garth was more than a brute commander. He was smart as fuck. Victor needed his intelligence and the authority he exuded over the other packs.

“My defenses are impenetrable,” Victor went on, ignoring Garth’s last point with forced nonchalance. “As it stands, the Project will serve as both the perfect bait and doom for Stacy. We want her on these grounds.”

“We don’t want her to win, though,” Garth drawled. “We have to think about the unpredictability of magic, and we run the risk of underestimating the witch. You said it yourself. We don’t know if she is only a witch. What if there’s something about her we’re unaware of?”

“You don’t think the Project could take care of any surprises?”

It was a rhetorical question, but Garth shrugged anyway. “You never know.” He finished his whiskey.

Victor turned to the window, fury boiling within him. His mind raced with possibilities. Garth always had a way of poking holes in his plans. Victor had to remind himself this was a good thing. Garth saw the holes and patched them, allowing Victor to succeed in his operations.

“You might consider going about this another way,” the wolf spoke up. “However this ends, someone will look like the bad guy. This sort of shit will get out to the public whether you want it to or not. Why not make the witch the bad guy and save yourself the trouble of public backlash and cover-up? She will be the one attacking private property if what you say will happen does. Arresting her might not be a bad idea.”

Victor considered this, then nodded. “You’re onto something, Garth.”

The werewolf smiled in a way that would have had little kids screaming and adults shitting their pants. His canines gleamed. “Good thing you called me, Vic.”

Victor didn’t have it in him to glare or threaten Garth if he called him by that nickname again. His mind was already figuring out what to do next. He picked up the phone, intent on calling his old friend John Turnbower again. The issue with Greentree was dealt with and covered up. Time to ask old Turnbower for another favor.

And if he doesn’t agree? a voice in Victor’s mind demanded.

He will, Victor retorted. His options are to help me or lose everything. No one was more threatening than the Titan.

John Turnbower did not pay attention to the buzz outside his office where those working in the police department shuffled paperwork and calls and conversation. He had sealed himself in his office to take a call from Victor on a private cellphone the Titan gave him.

Dread had curled in his stomach at the sight of Victor’s number, and it didn’t go away when the call was over. Victor had asked difficult things of John over the years, but nothing like this. Nothing as borderline insane as showing up midway through an assault on Victor’s home that Victor was planning himself and arresting them. Not after someone innocent had been shot and killed and another injured.

Stacy Drake was turning out to be one hell of a problem for Victor. If not for the way it affected John, he would have found the whole matter amusing. Victor Corbinelli, the man the city called the Titan, brought down by a young woman whose exploits so far were only inside a courtroom against an old rival who was now dead.

There had to be something else to her. Why else was Victor so afraid?

John couldn’t help but think of his wife and sons. What would happen to them if he didn’t do as Victor asked? His hands grew clammy. Sweat gleamed on his brow. He nearly jumped when the office phone rang. John didn’t recognize the number, but he knew it couldn’t be Victor. His old friend wouldn’t be calling this number.

“Turnbower speaking,” he answered in a monotone tenor.

The voice on the other end was familiar, but John had not heard it in over a decade. He broke out in a fresh sweat and paled as the cool tone reached him. “I do hope you aren’t planning on sending your force to help your old friend Victor today.”

John swallowed. “H-how… Wh-why are you calling me?”

“Never mind that. I have my reasons,” the voice replied. “I’ve been thinking about your involvement for some time, John, and wondering when I should step in. I was hoping you would make the choice yourself, but we have reached a point where I must make demands. You know what Victor is, don’t you?”

“Y-yes.”

“And you remember what I am, correct?”

John squeezed his eyes shut, shuddering. “Yes.”

“And you understand that if so much as one cop shows up at any of Victor’s properties, there will be consequences?”

John’s response was a squeaked confirmation.

“You know it is better for this city to lose Mr. Corbinelli rather than hundreds of cops and their families, including yours, if I get hungry, yes?”

A chill darted down John’s spine. He lowered himself into his chair, unable to stand. He was glad his blinds were closed so no one in the office could see the effect this conversation was having on him. “Y-yes, Mr. Drakethorn. No one will show up for Victor. You have my word.”

“Good.”

“B-but my family. How will they…”

“If Victor lives and comes for your family, I will protect them.”

Could John trust the word of Constantine Drakethorn?

Something clicked for him then. Drakethorn was making a threat from seemingly nowhere. The woman Victor had issues with was Stacy Drake. There had to be a connection.

Holy shit, he thought. I’ve fucked up.

Constantine’s silence on the other end was weighty, as if waiting for John to admit something. Finally, the police commissioner glanced at an old photograph of him and Victor, swallowing harder. “Personally, I think it’s time that monster was killed. My friend died a long time ago.”

Stacy’s hands wove through the air, magic trickling through and out from her. She spoke the incantation Rowan had taught her under her breath, sensing both the dryad and Miles on either side of her doing the same thing.

Kiera stood behind them, monitoring the edge of the grounds for any sign they’d been seen. Up on the hill stood the stronghold. It was old and made of stone, like Victor’s house in Aurora. Something about it seemed colder, crueler than the home she’d assaulted earlier. This building showed no signs of being a home, as dull and drab as Victor’s true home was. This was a facility. A prison.

Magic crackled in the air, a sign that the wards were thick and strong. Stacy noticed fencing and cameras, too. Everything Victor could have done to prepare for this awaited them.

He knew I would come here, she thought. Everything she saw so far matched the reports Kiera gave. All that remained was to shatter the wards and take over the fortress. Easy-peasy, she told herself.